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 They’d been replaced by some overstuffed versions that reflected her need for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.
