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Acting and Reacting

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Title: Acting and Reacting         

Author: Sara B.

Feedback: Greatly appreciated - picture pleading in a kneeling

 position. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to C. Carter and Co.,

Fox and the wonderful actors who breathed life into written words, most

 notably G. Anderson and D. Duchovny who where able make us

believe in the  improbable.  The story belongs to me.

Spoilers:  Two Fathers/One Son, Agua Mala, Monday, Arcadia and

Alpha (there is also a hint towards the Unnatural, which has not

 happened yet, that is so slight you may miss it)

Category: Angst and slight MSR

Rating:  Over  13 for language

Summary: He needs to know and she needs to tell.

Archive: If you want it?  It’s yours.  Please drop me a line to let me

know.  Thanks.

Gratitude: To Kim Knight my non biological daughter that I have never

 met and beta bud and my husband, Dennis, who sees me through life

 and all it’s challenges  and lastly to the readers.

Author Notes: Those that know me know I am obsessed with the

‘Diana’ debacle.  This is, once again, a representation of a

confrontation of which we were deprived.  This is not my first fic but

unless you are Kim it is the first anyone has read. 

Acting and Reacting

 

“Why are you acting like this Scully?”  Mulder was frantic to understand.  He understood that she was upset from their confrontation over Diana, but that was months ago.  Throughout their time together they’d fought about everything.  Sometimes it was bickering and others it was all out war but once the battle ended they were fine.  Not so this time.  For the first time Scully didn’t bounce back. 

 

To the outside world Scully was always so cool and professional it was clear why she’d been tagged with ‘Ice Queen’ and ‘Doc Ice’.  Those disparaging monikers were the result of her being a woman in a decidedly male path where women’s emotions are unappreciated.  But that was the ‘public Scully’ not ‘his Scully’.  His Scully was warm and caring.  She was his lighthouse in the storm.  The light had been turned out, fog had rolled in and his ship was approaching the rocks.   


Recently they had faced a hurricane in Florida, a Bank robbery attempt two blocks from the Hoover and a monster born from the mind of an egomaniacal intolerant man in California.  Slowly the ice was melting and the gleam in her eye started to return.  Then came another trip to California to find a very ‘bad dog’ and Karin Berquist, a human who thought like an animal.  Scully had tried to warn him and once again he’d ignored her.  Would he never learn?  The flicker of light extinguished, his Scully left and professional Scully took up permanent residence.  They saw each other nearly everyday but he missed her.  He missed the intimacy he’d taken for granted, that he hadn’t even recognized until it was gone.
 

 

Today it came to a head and he needed answers, answers on what to do to fix this impasse.  He didn’t even know what triggered it.  Mulder had been sitting in his office when he just knew that he had to do something.  Scully had gone home an hour before when he felt a tightening in his chest and he needed to see her.

 

Mulder arrived at her door and had to control himself from pounding on it.  Scully opened after his second knock.  She was dressed in a silky pale blue robe, wet spots peppering the surface, and her hair was in a towel.  It was obvious that she wore nothing under the robe but he didn’t dare think of that.  Not now, he needed to earn the right to think that way.

 

“Mulder?”  She asked everything with just that one word and for one fleeting moment ‘his Scully’ was standing there.  Then she realized how she was dressed and without saying anything she headed towards her bedroom.    

 

Mulder entered her apartment and looked around and he was surprised to see several changes. Had it really been so long since he’d visited?  Gone was the strange striped sofa and chair that never fit with her personality.  They’d been replaced by some overstuffed versions that reflected her need for comfort.  Where once she’d had a seventeen inch TV sitting on a plain stand, now stood an armoire.  Gone were the remnants of the girl buying her first furniture, replaced by the woman she’d become. 

 

The mantle held a series of cards.  Closer examination showed they were birthday cards, a birthday he’d forgotten in his haste to run to a case in California so they could appease Skinner by disposing of his case and then get on to their real work.  He’d have to figure a way to make it up to her.  In six years he’d remembered one birthday whereas she always remembered his.  She always found a way to make him feel special for that day.  One year he’d walked into the office only to be greeted by a balloon bouquet.  Another time she, uncharacteristically, turned the radio to his favorite station and he heard a dedication for him from her ‘to M., the one who makes it all worth it, Happy Birthday, Love S’.  He had been so touched that he still had no idea what song was played.  She always came up with something followed by a home cooked meal at her place complete with a home baked banana cake with caramel frosting topped by a single candle.  The first couple years she’d asked if there was anyone he wanted to invite, maybe the Gunmen, but he always declined preferring that it was just the two of them.

 

Mulder read each card, one each from her mom and brothers, several from various other relatives, one from her friend Ellen and the last one from someone named Stephen.  He’d never heard her mention anyone named Stephen in the past so he determined this was some new acquaintance.  Again his chest clenched.  This is how she found him.  Scully had put on a pair of gray slacks and a dusty blue sweater.  His heart ached for the robe and towel.

 

Mulder held up the card he was holding, “I missed another one didn’t I.”  It was a statement more than a question.

 

“That’s ok Mulder; I don’t expect you to remember.”  The harshness of the words was not eased by the resignation in her tone.  She never had expressed it before but Mulder now understood how much his inconsideration hurt her.

 

“We need to talk Scully.”

 

“No Mulder, we needed to talk months ago.  It’s too late.”  She turned from him heading towards the door.  “Now if that is all would you please leave so I can have dinner?”

 

He responded with the question that started this whole path. “Why are you acting like this Scully?”

 

Her hand, which was reaching for the doorknob, stilled and her head fell to her chest.  “I’m not acting,” she turned to look at him, “I’m reacting.”  She gave him no pause to comment but continued to answer his question that now he wasn’t so sure he wanted answered.  “I’m reacting to the hellish, selfish way you have acted.  I’m reacting to your untold secrets.  I’m reacting to your uncaring attitude and meanness.  I’m reacting to your lack of objectivity and the obvious lack of respect you have for me and my skills as an investigator.  I’m reacting to your deafness regarding certain,” she faltered for a moment looking for the right word and he saw the betrayal of a tear slip from her eye, “subjects and your selective amnesia regarding what these people have done to me and how I may be affected.  I’m reacting, that’s all reacting.”  Scully took a long, deep breath and held her middle, she was spent.  He could see the incredulity cross her face, she never thought she would voice those thoughts let alone to his face.

 

Mulder had no idea how to respond.  How does a man respond to the woman in his life hurling such accusations, such truths?  She was right he owed her so much more than he’d delivered.  He owed her truth, he owed her objectivity, he owed her respect.  He just plain owed her.  Mulder turned away, his head bowed.  He took cleansing breath, pushed his shoulders back and raised his head then turned back.  Mulder walked towards Scully with is right hand extended.  “My name is Fox Mulder and I’m a loser and a bastard.  I hurt the one person in this world who gave a crap about me and I will never forgive myself.  I am begging that she give me, ‘her Mulder’, ‘another’ last chance.  I know I don’t deserve it but she is a kind sort who has a soft spot for strays and I am most definitely a stray.”  He stopped and just looked at her bowed head.

 

Scully listened to his plea and for the first time in months she was in the presence of ‘her Mulder’ not that self absorbed jackass that had taken residence in his body.  She raised her eyes and he knew he had her.  He opened his arms invitingly.  “Come home Scully,” without hesitations she moved into his arms.

 

“Mulder, where have you been for these last months?  I have missed you so much; you wouldn’t believe the obnoxious ass that has been impersonating you.”

 


They both stood there laughing holding each other.  Later there would be explanations, apologies and tears but for now there was laughter and it was enough.

End

Sara B.   

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