#grimace and smurf tshirts

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Monday

the series read as follows:

Superman ...

_________________________

Monday was terrible. Mulder’s dress shirt was too tight against his neck; Scully’s nylons itched something fierce and would not stay where they were supposed to; Skinner seemed louder than they remembered and the file folders seemed more dry and sharper along the edges, paper cuts lurking very near in the future. Mulder’s cast banged into every available obstacle, including Scully on several occasions, tripping her up, sending her stumbling into a wall at one point and a door the next. Apologizing profusely from the safety of his office chair, “I promise you, I’m not trying to kill you.”

Smiling at him as she massaged her heel, “I’ll survive.”

Mulder dropped his head to the desk, “can we please go back on vacation?”

“You keep bringing that up. I’m beginning to believe you are not quite as committed to your job as you once were.”

Lifting his head, he looked at her, awkwardly trying to undo his top button without moving more than a few centimeters, “I will be, just not right now. My God, or your God as it were, why the hell can’t we wear t-shirts and shorts?”

As she settled into the chair across from him and kick/slid her heels across the room, “because people wouldn’t take you seriously in your garish plaid shorts and Smurf t-shirt, regardless of how many times you show them your badge.”

“You don’t like my garish plaid shorts and my Smurf t-shirt?”

“Well, no. I meant people in general. I, not being your average person, love your garish plaid shorts and Smurf t-shirt.”

“I like you in my Smurf t-shirt as well.”

Giving him a soft smile, complete with that hint of pink filling her cheeks, quickly rising from neck to forehead, “it is a very comfortable shirt.”

The look went on a little longer than it should have and Mulder broke the building tension with a groan, “the thing is, I can’t even go out and do any real work for at least another two weeks.”

“Minimum, Mulder. That’s the bare minimum. You may have convinced Skinner to let you go do interviews but until those pins come out and you can actually walk and run again, we won’t be doing much else so accept it now or I’ll be eviscerating you ‘round about Thursday because of your whining.” Holding out her hand, “now, let’s see what we’ve missed. Hand me something, please.”

&&&&&&&&&

Monday evening, just as they were pulling back up in front of Scully’s apartment, her turn to play host and their chosen destination for cleaning and unpacking, her phone rang. It didn’t take long for Mulder to deduce that she would be going somewhere and he would be left behind. Once she hung up, she turned his way, “this feels an awful lot like just before we left.”

“Another mass grave?”

“No but I need to go to Idaho while you, my casted friend, are about to get a call telling you you’re need for some profiling up in Maine.”

“How …” was all he got out before his phone jingled in his pocket, signaling she was right and he was gonna be lonely. All the dominoes fell in line soon after that, Scully flying out to one side of the country while Mulder, navigating the airport with his crutches, headed to the other.

As soon as he settled in his seat, priority boarding getting him on the plane first and awarding him ample time to complain to Scully before either of them took off, “why can’t I just come with you and they can email the files to me? It’s not like I really have to physically be sitting at the crime scene to do this.”

She was stuck sitting in the waiting area between a gentleman wearing too much cologne and a woman with three bags and a pursed look on her face. Wondering if she was sucking on a lemon none of them could see, she texted back, leaning forward to get away from both of them, forearms resting on her carry-on, “you know you work better when you’re at the scene. Walking around, looking at things, touching things, it’s when you do your best profiling Mulder.”

Sighing, “I know but I’m complaining because I won’t get to see you for who knows how long. I want my ten seconds of bitching and I will not be denied!”

A chuckle skipped up her throat, forcing her shoulders to jump and the haughty woman to look at her with distain. Scully was okay with this. “Let me know when you’re done so I can complain next.”

They went on for another ten minutes until Mulder sent her a message containing a smiley and a ‘love you … fly safe’. Even though he wouldn’t see it until he landed again, she responded in kind, then slouched back in her seat, happy to see that cologne man had left, her air field clear once again.

&&&&&&&&&&

Eventually, she made it to her hotel a little after 2am, cursing the existence of time zones, turbulence and taxi cabs whose drivers seem to have no idea where anything was in Boise. Irritated to no end, she dropped her bags on the bed, did her standard bedbug check, thankfully turned up nothing then pulled out her phone, “if you are awake, I hate Idaho and everything it stands for. I will not be eating potatoes in protest while I am here.”

Immediately her phone rang, startling her, causing her to nearly drop the thing as she answered it, “Mulder?”

“Morning, sunshine. Having a pleasant trip so far?”

His voice made her smile, which he could hear on his end and it made him happy, “it’s a tad more pleasant now. Why are you awake? It’s 2am.”

“Where you are but where I am, it’s nearly 5:30 and the sun is just coming up.”

Sleep-deprivation and the rough ride made her forget the time change, “gonna be a long day now, isn’t it?”

“Probably but that’s all right. Rather have you wake me up than anything else.” Stretching across his double bed, both bed and body creaking and popping, “so, in all great seriousness, when are we going on vacation again?”

Having already stripped while talking to him and pulled on her pajamas, she laughed, “we need to work a few weeks, build up some vacation time again before we go anywhere.”

“You are no fun this morning.”

Knowing he was only joking with her, she looked down at her wardrobe choice, “well, if I tell you that I’m wearing only your purple Grimace shirt to bed, will that make me more fun?”

“Infinitely. If I ask you to take it off and do things while you tell me what you’re doing, it would be even more fun.”

That worked on her parts quite efficiently but knowing she needed sleep more, she slid under her sheets, still clothed, “sorry, buddy, exhaustion calls but eventually, you’ll get me out of the Grimace shirt, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Whispering his good night, he let her go to sleep while he started his day.