Babies with a Tail, the H is Silent, & Picking Out China Patterns (Or What)?
(SMALL POTATOES)
88.
(MUSIC: “FAIRYTALE IN NEW YORK” — ZYMPHONICA)
She doesn’t have to be here. She has other places to go. Her mother’s would be a good choice. Comfort’s Lodge is just three miles’ drive from her apartment. She can also find a hotel closer to work; the Bureau will pick up the tabs for this one for sure.
So, why is she here?
Scully keeps wondering about that on the whole drive, and once she’s lain down on his old and comfortable leather couch, it seems to be the one question on her mind.
Why the hell is she here, in Mulder’s apartment, where there is only one couch and no bed, after he has rescued her, the damsel in distress in this ridiculous fairy tale, where the evil villain shapeshifter took on the form of Prince Charming and almost got the princess to kiss him?
If she is the princess in this fairy tale, where Mulder is the Prince Charming, where is her kiss?
And why is she using Prince Charming’s lap as a pillow now? Doesn’t Mulder use a pillow? Does he sleep on his arms? Is there a softer blanket? Did he get this Navajo afghan from Albert Hosteen?
Her mind does not want her to rest, because too much has happened tonight. Scully wonders if she will really catch any z’s like Mulder suggests when he escorted her out of her apartment building, fending off the curious neighbors and the nosy cops.
She appreciates it a lot more than she’s let on. She feels so, so embarrassed about the whole thing. She was targeted—by a rapist who realized that he could bed her by showing up looking like Mulder. And he almost, almost, almost—
Well, he almost kissed her. Granted that they had been drinking—they drank the whole bottle, maybe mostly she did, and she admits to herself that she doesn’t want her first time with Mulder to be alcohol-induced.
Yes, she does think about the first time with Mulder. Sometimes it involves a dingy hotel out of town, sometimes it’s their office on his desk with the door locked, sometimes it’s in her bed with scented candles around, and sometimes, actually, more times than she likes to admit, it is on his leather couch.
Exactly where she is lying right now.
Why am I here? This question pops up again.
Mulder’s hand has been mindlessly smoothing her hair for some time, trying to lull her to sleep. Blue light fills his living room, partly from the fish tank and partly from the TV screen. She has requested him to keep the TV on, even though the only thing she can see right now from this angle is Mulder’s jaw and his big, big nose.
She thought she was finally going to find out if his nose would get in the way when they kissed. She’s betting yes.
Mulder’s hand moves to caress her forehead as he speaks: “If you keep your eyes open like that, Scully, you won’t fall asleep.”
“Mulder,” she says with her eyes closed now, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course not.”
“Why’d you kick down my door? How’d you know he was gonna come to my apartment?”
His hand stops as her questions freeze him.
“Why didn’t you just knock...?” She pauses for a bit. “What did you expect to...see?”
Mulder clears his throat, which looks like he’s desperately trying to buy some time before he has to answer. “Bastard’s got my keys. I had to... kick your door down. I didn’t know any other way as... fast. I don’t think I could convince your super in the time it took me to break your door.”
She remains silent and waiting.
“I can’t think of anywhere else he would go to.” Mulder quips, “And I was hoping that you were safe. Of course, I’m...”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, and she sees that he’s now frowning. Mulder was really upset when the police first showed up, and stated that Scully had willingly let Van Blundht in, but it was Mulder who forced himself into the apartment. The cops thought Mulder was the jealous lover and this was a domestic dispute. One of the officers called it a freaky fairy tale when the two agents claimed that the suspect could change his face at will, and was met was a so ya thought he was yar partner and ya kissed him?
Her face hadn’t burned like that since junior high. Prince Charming had to rescue her again by taking her out of the crime scene.
“I’m taking you door shopping tomorrow. I’m not too happy that I could kick your old door down so easily.”
So easily, my ass; she saw him limping a little earlier. She was going to ice it for him until Mulder decided that he was the one taking care of her tonight.
“Scully?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
She tries not to sound too nervous. “Yeah, sure?”
“How far would you...” He licks his lips. “Which base was I gonna get if... I didn’t break your door down?”
There is no way she knows the answer to that.
“Scully?” He urges, his hand back on stroking her forehead, and she suddenly has an image of herself as a cat, rubbing up against Mulder and purring.
He covers her eyes with his hand and suddenly kisses her forehead.
“You know, I... I wouldn’t have gotten you drunk. That’s not my style.”
She grabs his hand and holds it in place over her eyes. “Door shopping tomorrow, Mulder. Get me a good one.”
The damsel has exhausted all her courage for today, and she falls asleep before hearing his whispery reply.
“Of course, princess.”
==
(MUSIC: “BASKET CASE” － GREEN DAY)
Both of them were still silent when they got into the car. He didn’t feel like talking; she didn’t feel like he wanted to hear her say anything at this point. After all, he tried for two whole days to get her to answer that question.
How come you didn’t know it wasn’t me, Scully?
His voice still rang in her ears. Mulder was hurt. He sulked. She had expected him to tease her and never let her get away with it, and he did do that for the first 20 minutes or so. After that—more precisely, after Eddie Van Blundht was taken into custody— Mulder grew all serious and asked her that question with his signature pleading eyes that Eddie had mimicked so well.
Damn him, she thought several times after the whole embarrassing ordeal was over. Although Scully was never sure which "him" she was referring to every time she thought about that. But really, damn him.
Given the fact that four women had no idea it was Eddie and not their husbands romancing them, why would she know the Mulder who was about to kiss her wasn't really Mulder?
She further considered that if Amanda, who’d seen Star Wars over 400 times by now, couldn’t tell the difference between Eddie Skywalker from the real Luke Skywalker, then how would she stand any chance in hell to know that this Mulder wasn’t the real Mulder but a Mulder-imposter with a monkey tail?
But Scully did not really accept her own logic, and when the man, whom she had worked side-by-side with for over 1,000 days, looked at her with those wounded Labrador Retriever eyes, she also wanted to ask herself, How come you didn’t know it wasn’t him?
“Scully, you hungry?” Mulder’s voice took her back to reality.
“I could eat something.” She looked at his profile. She remembered staring at his nose inching near as Eddie came close to kiss her, and she frowned.
“I know just the place ‘round here.” Mulder gave her a little wink. “There’s a place that’s been selling Coney Island wieners before WWI ended. It’s not far from here.”
She frowned again at his words. Mulder had the taste buds of a 10-year-old boy. Wiener dogs, really? Sure, they were fine if you’re at a backyard barbeque or at a ballpark, but if there were other places to eat, why, just why would you go for that?
“... or we can just head back now.” He glanced at her, eyes leaving the road a little longer than he usually did. “The Boys took me to a place for cheesesteaks a few weeks ago. They all raved about it. I told ‘em I’d take you the next time I go. What better day than today, huh, Scully?”
Just seconds after he said that, Mulder stepped on the brakes and parked the car on the street, but he didn’t turn off the engine. He sat there, squinting and chuckling suddenly.
“Hey, Scully, look, they spelled wiener with w-e-i-n-e-r instead of w-i-e-n-e-r. You know, i before e except after c.”
He pointed at a sandwich board, which Scully had missed completely, and suddenly, the smile on his face just disappeared.
“I’m a geek, aren’t I? I’ve always been a geek, a weirdo, a loser, a freak. I’ve been called all that since middle school. Yeah, Scully.” Mulder put the car into drive. “I don’t wine and dine a girl. I bring her to have wieners with me. You know what they say, If it walks like a duck—”
“Mulder, stop.” She chimed in somewhat abruptly. He looked at her and found amusement in her eyes. “You know what, ask me that question again.”
He gave her a defiant look and shook his head.
“You know, it was exactly that. I wasn’t sure how to put it in words, but this was exactly it. When Eddie, and I’d like to remind you again that he looked exactly like you, came by to talk and asked me about my high school days, and came so close to—to kiss me, I was telling myself, what better day than today? That was what I was thinking.”
He chewed on a phantom sunflower seed in his mouth and gestured for her to keep talking.
“Mulder, he looked like you, talked like you, smiled and did that eyes thing just like you. Geez, he even smelled like you, he probably used your aftershave or your deodorant or something. This guy fooled five women into believing he was someone they thought he was and succeeded. So, the question was never how come you didn’t know it wasn’t me, Scully?”
“What did you mean by what better day than today?” He asked her after a long moment of silence. He had turned off the car engine without either of them paying attention to it.
“I thought maybe you wanted to do something because I’ve been... sick. I don’t know. In case you haven’t noticed, Mulder, I don’t do spontaneity well. I like to plan things and it’s hard for me to just...”
She trailed off, never intending to finish her confession.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’ll never just stop at a roadside cafe without having at least some idea as to what it offers, or take a road trip without knowing the destination?”
He already knew the answer, yet he still asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “But if you lead—”
“You’ll dance.” He finished her sentence for her and gave her an appreciative smile.
Out of the blue, she reached out to him with her right hand and tweaked his nose, hard, making him yelp in surprise. “Do they have grilled cheese here?”
He grasped her hand, and she let go of his nose. Mulder squeezed her hand briefly before letting it go. “I don’t know. I hope so? C’mon, I’ll buy you a coney dog and some fries, and a grilled cheese, and a root beer, and everything your heart desires.”
“Does the meal come with a happy Mulder?” She said as her eyes gleamed, and he grinned. He tugged on her sleeve and pulled the key out of the ignition.
“I hope they give out Tums with their receipt.” She deadpanned as they got out of the car.
“Scully, there will be a better day for us.” He flashed her a smile, one that she had missed for nearly a month, a smile with his unique brand of cocky confidence. “I promise you.”
89. All the Boys I've Loved Before
(MUSIC: “SOMETIMES” —TRAVIS ATREO)
She was thinking about the little incident they witnessed at lunch. There was a woman sitting with two little girls at the table next to theirs. The girls started arguing when the food arrived; then, one child just picked up her orange soda and dunked it on the other child.
The latter started crying, and the waiter hurried over to take care of the mess. Clearly embarrassed, the woman began to furiously scold her two children.
A meal and a show; I picked good today, Scully. Mulder whispered lowly in her ear when both girls started making siren-like wails.
“You’re not still thinking about those kids, are you?” Mulder asked.
They were sitting in the office; Skinner had given them a choice of two assignments. One of the cases was helping Agent Edwards’ team at the Behavioral Analysis Unit; there were several suspects, but nothing solid.
“I was... just thinking about how little girls aren’t just made with sugar and spice and everything nice.” Scully commented.
“Oh?” Mulder was wearing his tell-me-more expression. He’d been doing that a lot lately, she realized. Asking her to talk about her past, wanting to hear about her life—Mulder had always been interested before, especially when they were traveling or on a stakeout with a lot of time to kill, but it seemed like he had kicked it up a notch.
Scully hoped this change wasn’t brought on because of her cancer. It’s like Tuesdays with Mulder, only it’s more like Every Day with Mulder.
She gave a little sigh before she started talking: “When I was about 14, my parents’ friends from out of state came to visit. They brought four girls who were younger than me. The oldest one was probably 9 or 10. And Missy had a date, so I kept an eye on them.”
“Um-hum.” Mulder made a noise to indicate that he was following her story.
“One of them had a bratty way when she talked. She was maybe 8, but the way she talked made her sound much older. Maybe they knew I was keeping an eye on them and didn’t like it. So that girl asked if I had a boyfriend. I said yeah. She asked his name, and I said Brad. She started laughing and said, Brat? Your boyfriend’s name is Brat?”
Mulder looked like he was trying not to laugh. Scully thought it was kind of funny too, in retrospect, because the girl was immature and insecure in new surroundings. With a personality like that at such a young age, life couldn’t be easy for her anyhow. Yet Scully recalled feeling annoyed and embarrassed that strangers were making fun of her so blatantly. It was similar to getting picked on just because you wore glasses or had red hair.
Whoever said that little kids were nice? She thought while her eyes met Mulder’s gaze.
“Your boyfriend’s name was Brad?” He murmured.
“What, are you channeling that girl?” She smirked, feeling a little amused that Mulder was asking about such ancient history. She hadn’t thought of that brown-haired boy with a button nose for nearly two decades. “I was 14. It was puppy love. He was a math whiz. Always got picked on for being dorky, I think.”
“And?” Mulder inquired.
“And? And nothing, we were children. We went on to different high schools. End of story.” Actually, she moved, or else they would have gone to the same high school, but that wasn’t the point of the story anyway.
“Who’s next?”
Next? An alarm went off in Scully’s head. She then dated a few boys, but wasn’t really serious with anyone until she met Marcus. In college, there’s Sonia, but she didn’t want to tell Mulder that yet. Then, Daniel; she wanted to be his lover so badly, but she did not want to destroy his life, and that decision somehow steered her career path to the FBI, where she met Jack....
Marcus was a doting son, which, in actuality, did not make him a good boyfriend. Daniel had a wife and family, and she knew she did not want to be a person who broke up someone’s marriage—even though she suspected in the end, the Waterstons’ marriage would fail anyways. And Jack...
It was Missy who pointed out to her the resemblances between Jack and Bill. Yes, Bill, as in Bill Jr, their older brother. Some things just could not be unseen, and needless to say...
“Scully?” Came Mulder’s waiting voice.
“Hum, Marcus.” She smiled. “But I’ve told you all about him.”
“No, you haven’t.” Mulder disagreed.
“Yeah, I did, the firetruck—”
It took her a moment to recall that it wasn’t Mulder but Eddie the Monkey Boy who had been on the receiving end of that conversation, and Mulder quickly caught on after seeing the glint of realization that fleeted past her eyes.
“Damn Van Blundht.” He cursed under his breath. “I guess this might be a good time to say this: I don’t want to take the Quantico case.”
“Why not?” Although slightly puzzled at Mulder changing the subject, she decided that she wanted to talk shop too.
“One of the suspects’ names is Edward Grace. That’s just too many damned Edwards. I got a bad feeling about that.” He flashed her one of his charming boyish grins.
And finally... there’s Mulder. Her mind urged on, almost as if it was daring her. Mulder’s next. Mulder’s next. Mulder’s next...
idk if im so boiled my bones are turning into broth or if its because im a post big phannie but like, them acting and talking coupley issomething i have fully accepted as normal atp its only when i come here to see posts im like wait,, that WAS crazy o.0
