#maggieNskinner

[tatooedlaura-blog]

The Dessert

the fourth series reads as follows:

Apple Balancing ... Potential ... The Newbies

To catch up: First series … Second series ...  Third series

@today-in-fic

you know what? I had sudden doubts about posting an entire chapter about a dessert and I honestly sat and thought about if I should, then I remembered ... this is Life and the Dessert is Life at our house ... It should be at yours, too ...

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully had to laugh. Mulder came home and talked her ear off the first day Harrison worked with him, “my God, Scully, I want to ask where she’s plugged in so I can disconnect her from her power source every so often. You were never this … this …” hands flapping helplessly, “exuberant.”

“Regretting it yet?”

By now, his shoes were off, and she was pressed against him in a full-body hug, his chin vibrating her skull, “I’ll give her time, but really, she’s the damn Energizer bunny gone wild.”

“Have you switched over to decaf yet?”

“Five seconds after she left the interview, I stole a case from the kitchen upstairs. Skinner saw me and asked, but when I told him Agent Harrison had been by, he held the door to the elevator for me and wished me luck.”

Smiling into his chest, “well, it’s Thursday, and you know what Thursday means, don’t you?”

“Cerulean blue punch and failed attempts at sobriety?”

“And one baby.”

“Rock, paper, scissors you for who’s staying straight and who’s drinking the Kool-Aid?”

Mulder lost.

“This could get dangerous, Mulder. I haven’t had a drop of punch in something like 11 months.”

“Dangerous … or the most entertaining thing anyone has seen in a very long time.”

Finally pulling away, grin widening with every moment, “I pumped enough to last Will through tomorrow, but I only get one glass, understand?”

“This should be a blast.”

&&&&&&&&

Not seriously concerned but wondering just the same, “Mulder, does my looking forward to blue-tongued liquor make me an alcoholic?”

“Personally, I think you just look forward to the hangover breakfast. It’s really the only time you don’t have to explain to anyone why you are making a Pedro’s Taco Hut run at 7:15am.”

“Think we should buy some now so I can just reheat them? Save me a step in the process?”

Detouring to their taco haven, “why not.”

Arriving with baby, bag of tacos, and Mulder, Scully entered the house and stopped dead in the doorway, “oh … my … God … she made cheese-stuffed Italian sausage meatballs and garlic bread and …” taking a deep sniff of the air around her, “oh, lord in heaven, she made the Dessert.”

Following with a bit of trepidation given her sudden and intensely frightening nasal superpowers, “what the hell is the dessert?”

Scully didn’t answer, sliding on stocking feet into the kitchen, calling out loudly, “did you use Heath bars or almond and chocolate?”

Maggie’s voice drifted down from upstairs, “Heath bars. What do you take me for, your Aunt Bethany?”

“I withdraw the question.”

Mulder, behind her with a baby and oodles of curiosity, given the mention of Heath bars, “I ask again, what the hell is the dessert?”

Skinner took Will from him, “a frightening looking layered concoction of pudding and Cool Whip and cake and the aforementioned Heath bars. There are two of them in the fridge, and Maggie swears there won’t be any left by tomorrow morning.”

Scully beelined for the refrigerator, opening the door to survey heaven in twin glass dishes, “was there any cake left over?”

“Maggie hid it somewhere.”

Scully sniffed deeply again, bloodhounds around the world instantly jealous of her flaring nostrils, her movements calculated and slow around the kitchen until she stopped at the pan drawer, “gotcha, crazy woman.” Opening it, she turned over the two nested pans and the Tupperware bowl, finding four pieces of dark chocolate cake, one of which immediately went into Scully’s mouth, “like three layers could stop me.”

The two men looked on in befuddlement, “who is that woman?”

Stashing the tacos in the fridge without really looking at the dessert, “I think she’s Scully, but the devilish mumbling is confusing me.”

“Is Maggie going to kill her when she comes in?”

Scully heard them and laughed, “it’s ‘Find the Cake.’ If you find it, you get it. If you don’t, you chase your little brother around until someone falls down in exhaustion.”

Maggie popped around the corner, spying her daughter, “are you going to share at all?”

“Under normal circumstance, highly doubtful.” She did, however, hand over the plate with two large chunks still left, “but since I’m generous to a fault, I will split my winnings in half.”

Mulder took the plate with the smallest amount of apprehension, “why am I still afraid you’ll bite my hand off?”

“You know me.” Kissing his cheek, a crumb or three of cake at the corner of her mouth, “and once again, it’s ‘Find the Cake.’ Mom makes the dessert we all devour, but there’s always cake leftover. She hides it. It turns us all against each other, and then it’s Battle Royale, followed by name-calling and pouting. It’s tradition.”

Mulder turned to his mother-in-law, “you know you’re all crazy, right?”

“You married her, remember that.”

Chewing his mouthful of cake, Mulder’s eyes wobbled in ecstasy, “and I am so glad I did. Had I not, I wouldn’t be related to the baker who made this.” Wondering if he should make a grab for the last piece, “why have none of them ever tasted like this before?”

With a smile, seeing the stealing debate happening, Maggie split the last piece, handing one to her daughter and one to him, “because the Dessert cake is special cake. If you ask any more questions, you’ll get none of the finished product.”

“My God, between Betty and her Punch and you and the Dessert, do you like what I did there, by the way, you can actually hear the capital letters in both Punch and Dessert, you’re on your way to an entire meal where no one knows what they’re eating.”

She swatted him on the backside with the towel she was carrying, “wait until we hit Kitchen Sink night. It doesn’t happen often but when it does, get out of the way.”

Looking towards Scully, whose eyes seemed to glow at the prospect of Kitchen Sink night, “what the hell is Kitchen Sink night?”

&&&&&&&&&

Charlie showed up a little while later, Sarah and their kids gone for the night at her mother’s house, “got enough for me?”

Maggie looked up as her youngest son waltzed into the kitchen, “of course, but I thought you were working tonight?”

“Transformer blew about half an hour ago. I can’t do the updates, and the drive to Sarah’s parents is too long just to turn around and come home, so I thought I’d try to get a halfway decent meal here.”

“Hey, Charlie?”

Turning towards the voice, “yeah, Mulder?”

“Do you know about the Dessert?”

Charlie, for his part, flashed back to 10 years old, and his eyes began darting around the kitchen, reaching for the closest cupboard, pulling the door open so fast it bounced back at him, “where is it? Did you find it already? Please tell me you didn’t find it already?”

Scully laughed at him, bouncing Will against her shoulder lightly, hoping for something approaching a healthy yet non-spitty-up burp, “I beat you by an hour, Charlie.”

“Damn it.” Turning to survey his mother critically, “if I give you $20, can you bake me my own cake, like, right now?”

Mulder would have hugged all of them at that moment if he could have.

&&&&&&&&&

The meatballs were phenomenal, warm, delectable, oozing cheese in every bite, he would have eaten more, but in the middle of dinner, Maggie got up and removed the bowls from the fridge, displaying the Dessert for all to see.

Scully and Charlie slow their chewing slightly.

Finally, dinner was put away, and after the dishes were cleared, the dessert bowls came out. Mulder feared for himself as well as the ladies who just arrived, that they would all be trampled in the clamor to the concoction, but heaping helpings were passed out in an orderly fashion, spoons used instead of scooping fingers, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he most likely would not have to throw himself between Charlie and Scully because someone got an extra dollop of pudding.

Then he scooped up a spoonful.

And ate it.

And forgot the world around him.

There had never been a Dessert, good God-damn, he was thinking in capitals as well as speaking in them, that had ever made him feel this good.

It was cool and slurpy and crunchy and cake-y and whippy and …

Laughter penetrated his cloudy haze and looking up, found all the ladies and Charlie staring at both him and Skinner. Now, he didn’t want to see that look on Skinner’s face ever again, but at this moment in time, he imagined he was wearing the same orgasmic, ‘if I didn’t just get fucked but good’ smile and glad he wasn’t alone in his embarrassment, grinned wider, “this isn’t too bad.”

Napkins, hastily grabbed dishtowels, and one pacifier flew at his head.

He kept eating.

Good to her word, there was nothing left in either dessert bowl by the time the Punch came out. Mulder leaned over to Scully, who was, hand to God, licking her bowl, “you got room in there for Punch?”

“There’s always room for Punch, and given I’ve been off the stuff for a year, I don’t think I’ll be drinking that much anyway.” Then, kissing him full on the mouth, pudding taste everywhere, “you sure you’re okay being designated diaper-er tonight?”

He would have answered, but he was too busy pulling her close to return the kiss, Charlie whining about them in the background while Janet began shuffling the deck.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Nuptials

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You … The Chip … Date Night … Evidence of Things Unseen … Maggie’s Walter … Glasses … Maggie’s Truth … Waiting Words ... Fuzzy Fleece Pants and Creamsicles

First series … Second series

*********************

Charlie and Bill had no objections to the marriage; the wives were ecstatic about the wedding; the children were over the moon that Uncle Skimmer would be Uncle Skimmer all the time now. Dave called up and objected on the grounds that he was not asked for approval but his smile could be heard across the phone line and Maggie scolded him, telling him he would be banished to the back of the room if he kept his line of nonsense up.

She was amused.

Scully had come around, telling Mulder before she fell asleep against him not much later the previous night, that she would be fine tomorrow, a real, honest fine, because she was trying out a new thing called ‘taking the day as it comes’. Mulder wondered just how long that would last but he embraced it, crouching down to say good morning to his Upgrade before taking the frozen waffles she handed him the next morning.

Later that day, as piles of paper grew and papercuts threatened, hunger pangs drove Scully to eat three pickles and a roast beef and provolone wrap while Mulder snacked on his perpetual bag of sunflower seeds, she asked in between bites, “so it’s Tuesday. Want to bet when the wedding’ll happen?”

Digging out wallet and slapping $5 on the desk, “before summer.”

With a ‘psshht’ and a snort, Scully pulled a matching bill from the purse on the chair beside her and tossed it towards him, “I give them a week. Probably less. Logic dictates that everyone will already be together for Sunday dinner so why not just do it then.”

Damn it. He could see Maggie thinking exactly that but he’d already called his time frame so playing it cool, “you know. That would still be before summer.”

Another snort hit him, “argue all you want. I’m going to win anyways.”

“Whatever.”

&&&&&&&&&

She had his money in her pocket by that evening, Maggie calling to make sure Sunday would be good for a fairly quiet, unobtrusive, intimate ceremony in the front room followed by their normal dinner.

&&&&&&&&&

Standing there, having finally given in to looser tops and stretchier pants, Scully clutched her wad of Kleenex as she watched her mother walk alone down their makeshift aisle towards a polished Skinner, sans bruises, in a new suit and tie, glasses straight, back rigid, standing at attention with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

Father McCue, old family friend that he was, stood before the two of them, shortening the ceremony to accommodate Skinner’s rusty Catholicism and lack of organist to sing them through prayers.

Scully found she didn’t need her Kleenex, her eyes dry, her mind calm in the face of six-day earlier breakdown. Stuffing them in Mulder’s jacket pocket, she then reached down to hold his hand, first finding a finger, then two, her hand engulfed by his before the count of three. For some unknown reason, he had the sudden urge to look at her and never fighting that feeling, he turned, glanced, tilted his head.

She was giving him the slowest spreading smile he’d ever seen, skin creasing at glacial speed, eyes crinkling, cheeks lifting, millimeters at a time …

That was a look he hadn’t seen in a long time, possibly ever but he could read it plain as day, his brain processing in a heartbeat and before he knew it, his face was doing the same, eyes locked to her twinkling blue sparks of radiant perfection and spontaneous exaltation. It was only when he believed his face would split in two that he leaned in, whisper dropping six inches to receptive ears, “really?”

“Yeah.”

“Really really?”

“Really really really.”

He would have kissed her flat out right there but the sharp finger in his back pulled him back to the here and now, Dave leaning forward, “pay attention. If I have to watch Skimmer kiss Aunt Maggie, so do you.”

They watched the kiss from beginning to end, decorum dictated four second contact reached amid clapping and whistling, Charlie letting out a perfect pitch zing that ended the ceremony with grace and style.

Once the hullabaloo had died down, people shifting, moving, about to begin shutting borrowed folding chairs, Mulder gave one last look at her, seeing serene truth and excitement fighting for dominance on her face and still smiling, squeezed her hand, then called to the room, “hold on, folks, keep your seats … there’s a bit of an aftershow you might not want to miss.”

Turning her around, he escorted Scully up the aisle, hand on her lower back, flashback to seven years ago burning through both their minds. Confused by new and unscripted events, everyone sat back down, including Walter and Maggie, pretty darn sure what was coming and dually hoping they were right.

Once up front, Mulder whispered to Father McCue, still standing, wondering until Mulder’s words of non-existent Catholicism registered, then, nodding smile, he stepped away, leaving an empty space, which Mulder knew exactly who to fill with.

Addressing the crowd first, however, “so, I should have asked Dana here to marry me long about 1993 but it took until 1994 for me to realize it … then she shot me and made me reevaluate us as a couple. She fixed me right up though and since then, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment. If you know us, however, you know the perfect moment really doesn’t exist. Right there,�� pointing towards the back of the house, “in the middle of the night, Scully decided to do it instead, asking me if I’d marry her someday. I said yes and asked her if she’d marry me someday as well.” Grin wider, “someday decided to be right now.” Looking across the crowd, absorbing the news, amused by the news, genuinely happy about the news, he stopped his search on Byers, “you there, John Fitzgerald Byers, would you dust off that non-denominational ordination and come up to do the honors?”

He did not need to be called on twice.

Straightening his tie, buttoning his jacket, he smoothed his hair, folded his hands, walked sedately to the front of the room and in his clear voice, weight of love for his best friends evident, he married them.

Well, he began marrying them.

He only made it as far as the rings when Scully, in un-Scully fashion, spoke out of turn, “we don’t have rings!”

A chuckle snaked through the room, Mulder’s smile returning full force, along with his ‘I’ve got a secret’ dueling eyebrow wiggle, “ye of little faith.” Out of his pocket came two gum wrappers, Scully’s unused tissue, a fork and a ring box, all imposing in blue velvet domed top, “I come prepared for all occasions.”

Since everything surrounding her at that moment had a surrealistic clarity to it, she reached her fingers into his other pocket, fishing around through sunflower seed casings and a handful of M&Ms, “do you have one in there I can use?”

“Nope. Sorry. One ring per coat.”

She was in her own little heaven, “I’ll get one for you tomorrow, deal?”

“Deal.”

Byers cleared his throat, “do you have your own vows or would you like to repeat after me?”

Mulder, grin suddenly failing, swallowed hard, “I’ve never been one for following the rules so I think I’ll just do my own, if that’s all right?”

Scully nodded, his sudden seriousness making the room disappear, “of course.”

Taking her hands, he kept the ring securely on his pinkie while he talked, “I love you. It’s that simple. I’ve loved you in some way since you walked into that basement and shook my hand. You’ve given me hope and life and family and a home and I don’t think, even if I tell you I love you every second from now through eternity, that I’ll ever be able to make you truly understand what you mean to me. I red M&M you to the Moon and back, Scully, now and forever.”

Well, if that didn’t make every female in the room and a good portion of the males tear up.

Scully, however, couldn’t stop looking at him and knowing tears would blur the vision of him, she fought for all she was worth to keep her eyes dry. It helped when Mulder took her hand, went to slide the ring on her finger and through his own soggy voice, declared, “well, crap.”

Because Jake was Jake and Jake did these things, he piped up from his seat, “you can’t say ‘crap’ at a wedding, Uncle Mudler, no matter what’s wrong.”

“Yes, I can Jake, because,” moving the ring to several other fingers, “your Aunt Dana’s fingers and her ring did not have a discussion about whether they wanted to cooperate.” Giving Scully a sheepish look, “I apparently do not have a ring that will fit.”

The room chuckled, Scully chuckled, even Mulder chuckled after a heartbeat, during which Scully held out her thumb, “put it on there for now. You always did like a good thumbs up.”

Doing as told, he admired her now bedazzled digit, “that’ll work nicely, thank you.”

Taboo kiss on the cheek later, she took a deep breath, Byers prompting her, “Scully, would you like to say your own vows as well?”

Oh, the damn waterworks were already pinging the corners of her eyes, “yes, please.” Looking up at Mulder, the room silent again, “you have been my everything for so long, I have no idea how I could go on in life without you. You’ve held me up, held me close, held my world in your hands; you’ve searched for me, rescued me, fought for me, fought with me, fought for us in so many ways. You are the father of my children,” her voice narrowly cracking, “and the love of my life.” Deciding why not, she reached back into his snack pocket and pulled out the M&Ms, finding a red one amongst the blues and greens and pocket lint. Rolling it in her fingers, she held it up so he could see, “I gave you a red M&M in the car such a long time ago and I’m giving you one today in lieu of a ring, ‘cause, you know, I red M&M you to Jupiter and beyond.”

Byers never made it to the pronouncement of ‘man and wife’ given Mulder nearly knocked him backwards getting to Scully and her lips, warm, full and happily waiting for her husband.

Bill, and he would never admit it outloud, clapped the loudest for them, finally seeing, full force and clear as day, that Mulder did indeed love his sister.

The rest of them, having been waiting for Maggie and Skinner, realized they still had confetti poppers in their hands and deciding this was the exact proper moment, pulled the strings, releasing a flurry of paper streamers and smoke towards both married couples, kids giggling, adults cringing as smoke burned their nostrils, Maggie and Walter hugging and laughing, Mulder still kissing his wife.

His wife.

And Scully kissing her husband.

It was only when Scully began smiling that Mulder followed suit and pulling back, found the thumb holding the ring, bringing it up between them, “sorry about the sizing.”

“Shush it. I may wear it here all the time. I have to ask, though. When did you get it?”

“When I went ring shopping with Skinner. It was a manly ring shopping, complete with coffee and crullers and possibly several arguments about basketball. I saw it, wanted it, bought it. Took all of about 30 seconds.”

Finally looking at the three-in-a-row diamonds set in gold, simple, low-profile, two sizes too big perfection of Scully personality and sparkle, “you did very well.”

Popping his M&M in his mouth, “so did you.”

Byers leaned forward, unimposing in his interruption, “excuse me … one more thing.”

Never taking his eyes from Scully, “yeah?”

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

With a laugh, he kissed Byers cheek before returning to Scully’s mouth, “thank you. Now go away.”

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Waiting Words

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You … The Chip … Date Night … Evidence of Things Unseen … Maggie’s Walter … Glasses ... Maggie’s Truth

First series … Second series

*********************

Waking up slowly, his eyes dry, lips cracked, muscles aching, bruises tender, he found himself alone, staring at his weapon across the bed, sitting quietly on Maggie’s bedside table.

He had last seen his weapon before he was taken, safely tucked away in the closet, under lock, key and code. The night before, day before, whenever before, Maggie had helped him upstairs, gotten him into soft t-shirt, softer flannel, cradled in mattress and feathered down before kissing him, telling him she’d be back just as soon as she checked on the others. He’d been asleep in seconds, comforted more than he would ever admit out loud that Mulder and Scully were downstairs somewhere, available for a fight if the necessity arose. Now, however, he was awake and staring down the barrel of a gun Maggie had felt the need to place beside her in the night.

Not beside him but her.

If he wanted to, he could analyze that, debate whether it was next to her for fear he’d shoot her if she woke him up from sleep with a hand on his arm or a mumbled word, send him spiraling back to black plastic bag over head, wooden bat to back, cement meeting skull or if it was next to her because she would use it to defend him if and when another decided to invade her quiet life, her fiercely loved family.

Or he could stand, move, shower, eat, drink, ignore.

Instead he asked her quietly, when she walked back in a few moments later, holding a cup of steaming tea, “do you know how to use it?”

Setting tea beside gun, comfort and fear hand in hand on polished oak, “I do but since Bill died, I haven’t practiced.”

“We’ll do that soon but then I’d prefer to sleep with the gun in the drawer, my side or yours, doesn’t matter.” Moving closer, Maggie examined a cut, studied a still darkening bruise, laced her fingers against the back of his neck, while his gaze moved from tilted neck to warmer eyes, taking in all features between, “Maggie.”

She could see him ignoring all pain, not flinching at her touch against his already aching bones, “Walter.”

It was on the tip of his tongue, the words waiting to have life breathed in them, to cross the gap, change the world, alter the universe, but they remained quiet, knowing there was something he had to do before anything could happen, “should we go wake up the kids and have some breakfast?”

She felt it in the air between them and liking the unspoken for the moment, surrounded by it, she took his hand, “it’s actually time for dinner and Fox will love that you called them ‘the kids’.”

Holding out a hand to her, “help me up?”

“Of course.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

Scully woke to find Mulder’s hand splayed across her belly, tapping gently on her skin, and smiling, she turned her head to find him with his eyes closed but a small smile on his face, “are you Morse coding ‘I love you’?”

The happy grin grew larger, “I love that you know that.”

“Is it for the kid or me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I love you back but he’s not going to answer for a little while. Morse code doesn’t kick in until the third trimester.” Scully kissed his nose then slid from the bed, “come on, let’s go find some breakfast.”

Mulder corrected her as he followed, “dinner. It’s after 9.”

“Same day?”

“Who the hell knows.”

Heading to the kitchen, Mulder stopped dead in his tracks and Scully, being short and still waking up, ran directly into him, knocking her nose into his back and her hard lump of belly into his butt. “Hey.”

Mulder whispered over his shoulder, “your mom and Skinner are making out by the kitchen counter. Don’t look! Don’t look!”

“Mulder …” Skinner’s voice carried to Scully’s still hidden ears, “we are not making out. I am drinking a cup of tea and Maggie is upstairs looking for her slippers.”

“You could have been making out and one day probably will be making out and I just want to prepare.”

Scully smacked his arm as she rubbed her nose, her voice muffled, “why don’t you prepare next time when I’m not behind you. I smashed my face.”

Turning, he pulled her forward, kissing the top of her head before drifting down to hold her hand, “sorry. Didn’t mean to squish you.”

“I’ll forgive you.”

“Thanks.”

Skinner, accepting their insanity long before this, didn’t even flinch, “anyone hungry? We were about to wake you up to help us solve the hot button debate of hot dogs or macaroni and cheese.”

Scully, finally seeing his face, gravitated towards him, doctor hands reaching for injured flesh, fingers tilting his head for a better look at multiple cuts and egg-sized lumps, “how did you sleep? Do you need anything for pain? Any nightmares?”

Mulder came over, removing her still probing hands but waiting for the answers, staring intently until Skinner finally responded, the back of his mind amusingly contemplating the rest of his life with Doctor Cold Fingers and Spooky Mulder while he told them, “I slept okay but not great. I took two Tylenol before I came downstairs and as for nightmares, nothing I can’t handle. Now, leave it alone for awhile, okay?”

Said with more love than irritation, Scully gave him a smile, “I vote Mac and Cheese and how many boxes should I make?”

Maggie, slippers now securely on feet, walked soundlessly into the kitchen, “at least four.”

“Are Frohike and company gone?”

“Yeah. They folded their blankets and left me a note saying thank you and asked to have a security meeting with me at my earliest possibly convenience.” Handing the paper to Mulder as she walked by, “why do I need to have a security meeting with Melvin?”

The rest of them in instant agreement that some cameras, better locks and maybe a bullet proof bubble over the house were fine, upstanding ideas, Scully spoke first, “because the world isn’t the nicest of places and for better or worse, you are now unequivocally associated with three individuals who seem to attract an awful lot of unpleasantness.”

“I don’t want to be a prisoner in my own home, Dana.”

“Maggie,” Mulder reached out to her, holding her arm lightly, “the boys are the best at what they do. You’ll never even know your house is safer than Fort Knox, I promise. The only things you will see are three or four sensors in unobtrusive corners, if you look hard.”

She looked like she wanted to believe him but doubt remained, however slight, a sigh of resignation coming out after a few moments, knowing she couldn’t and probably shouldn’t fight the combined efforts of the three of them, “I’ll talk with them but no guarantees right now.”

Walter relaxed slightly, his muscles tight for too long during the last three minutes, “that’s all we ask.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

It was while Scully dried and Skinner washed, having insisted that he needed to move to keep his muscles loose, “Scully? May I ask you something?”

“Yes, Walter, you may ask me something.”

Feeling an oddly paternal need to flick water on her, he refrained, “what would your honest reaction be if I asked your mother to marry me?”

To be fair, the bowl in her hand was very slippery, the metal smooth, the fingers forgetful of how to grip. It clattered to the ground, Scully doing her half-second behind best to catch it and the thing, instead of being captured, flew across the room as knuckle hit metal, metal hit floor, floor unforgiving, linoleum slick.

Both watched the bowl finally come to a halt in the hall, the clanging echoing a moment longer, before Skinner looked down at his agent, “that tells me a lot.”

Retrieving the bowl in silence, she came back to the sink, Walter unmoving but curious as she picked up her dishtowel once again before, “that doesn’t count in my answer. You dropped a bomb, I’m allowed to have butter fingers for a few seconds during processing.”

He understood, knowing not to judge on first reaction, “but now that you have your bowl firmly in hand, what do you think?”

“I think … that … it doesn’t really matter what I think but since I know that’s not the answer you want, I guess … well …” setting bowl on counter instead of flinging it to the floor as she had a minute ago, “dad’s been gone for six years and I think he’d want her to be happy. She smiles at you like she used to at him and that … that’s probably the best thing I’ve seen since he died and it makes me happy to know you want to make her smile like that for the rest of your lives.” Feeling the need to apologize for the ramble, she crossed her arms and turned towards him, giving him that eyebrow Mulder feared and he got a kick out of, “are you going to make her smile like that forever?”

“I’m going to try my best.”

Rocking back and forth on her heels a few times, she gave him a grin, “then I won’t be calling you ‘dad’ but there’s a really good chance Mulder will so prepare yourself.”

“I will.”

Uncrossing arms, she wrapped one around his waist in a half-hug, then pointed towards the dishes still waiting to be washed, “you better get those done, Walter, or she won’t be smiling anymore.”

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Maggie’s Truth

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You … The Chip … Date Night … Evidence of Things Unseen … Maggie’s Walter ... Glasses

First series … Second series

*********************

It took three days of hellish investigation and interrogation to crack Bibbins and get a hard location on Skinner. Both Mulder and Scully insisted on being there as they searched the abandoned elementary school which, annoying cliché to Mulder, had the same address as Maggie’s house, just one city over. Turning each closet, desk and bathroom stall upside down, literally and figuratively, they happened upon him in a boiler room, chained to the wall, a bloody mess, dehydrated to the point of confusion and totally blind without his glasses. He flinched when the door broke and calling them a few names with in a whispered, growling bravado before he recognized Scully’s blur of red hair amongst the sea of invading navy blue, “Scully?”

It came out as a croaked crack of a sound but Scully recognized it and dropped to her knees, kissing his forehead quickly, “that’s from mom,” before pulling out a water bottle and holding it to his lip, “drink slowly.”

Knowing well she was right, he sipped while Mulder located bolt cutters to snip the chains and finally allow his arms to hang below his heart, get some blood back in the limbs that had been near falling asleep for days save his movements and shakes to keep the blood moving. At first batting away help, he discovered his legs wouldn’t cooperate, falling back before Mulder, unasked, put his hands under Skinner’s arms, “come on. You’ve picked me up off the ground enough, I owe you but if you hit me, we’ll be having words.”

Skinner knew this was Mulder’s worry coming out in humorless jabber but he obliged, appreciating the fact that the rest of the team stepped back, let them through without a word. Scully went first, clearing a path through people and objects until, finally, they bought him into the sun, setting light better than piercing noon, brisk breeze oddly warmer than frozen concrete, “Scully …”

Already knowing his request, she pulled something out of her vest and gently slid his glasses up his nose, “that better?”

“You have no idea.”

No one talked about that smell that surrounded him, the urine tinge, the blood metallic, the vomit sharp, putting him in the waiting ambulance, Scully climbing in while Mulder stayed behind to call Maggie, then pick her up.

“Mulder?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Call Scully before you bring her in. I don’t want her seeing me like this.”

Both his agents knew that feeling well, having kept their appearance from Maggie for years when full-scale fear would be the outcome, “I will do my best but she’s a Scully. She may push me down and come in anyways.”

“Mulder.”

“I’ll do my best.”

&&&&&&&&

Yeah, he tried his best.

And he failed miserably, Maggie giving him a look that could have melted steel and froze lava in the same breath before sidestepping past him and through the exam curtain. Not caring for either the nurse or her daughter in the way, she moved to Skinner, did a cursory glance for gapping wounds, then hugged him quickly, forehead to his in a MulderNScully move that transcended centuries and was apparently passed unbeknownst from mother to daughter, “You never have to go get coffee again.”

“I’ll never again forget it in the first place,” and they saw Walter Skinner, stoic, granite slab of an unconquerable Marine, kiss Maggie gently as a single, rouge tear escaped his bloodshot eyes.

She kissed him back, hands on his neck, “I love you, Walter.”

“I love you, too.” Scully slipped her hand in Mulder’s, watching her mother quietly until Skinner looked over Maggie’s shoulder, nearly back to business, “you were supposed to call before she came in here.”

“Apparently you’ve never tried to keep Maggie Scully from getting someplace she is determined to be.”

Maggie took each one of their faces in in turn, stopping back at Skinner, “I do not need to be protected. I can handle more than you all give me credit for.”

Scully, guilt filling her voice, “We just don’t want to worry you, mom, that’s all.”

Looking at her daughter, “I have worried about you since the day you were born and about them since the day we met,” indicating Skinner and Mulder, “I need to see you all more than you need to keep your bruises from me. You will stop treating me like I am going to break from now on.” Giving Scully a light swat to the backside, “now, go find something to eat and leave us alone for a few minutes, please.”

Never one to argue after a swat, Scully turned Mulder by the shoulders, “move it, Agent, I need something greasy.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully fell asleep against Mulder at the end of the hall, egg McMuffins consumed after he’d run to the McDonald’s next to the hospital and smuggled them back in with a wink and a smile at the nurse manning the front desk. The sun was well and up when Maggie returned to them, motioning them back into the room. Skinner was now cleaned up, sporting a hospital gown and wearing fuzzy hospital socks over size 13 feet, which were dangerously close to hanging off the end of the narrow bed. “Fox, dear, could you go back to the house and get some clothes for Walter? They’re releasing him in a few hours and I don’t think he wants to wear the hospital gown home.”

Having reached the point where he’d really just like to go to sleep, not caring where, he nodded slowly, “yeah, I can do that.”

Skinner looked at the pair, exhausted and frayed around the edges, “thanks, Mulder.”

“It’s fine. Are you sure you should be leaving so soon?”

“I want to sleep in my own bed, a bed I actually fit in.” Squirming as he took in Scully’s dazed, still dreaming look, “you know what. Don’t worry about the clothes, get Scully home for some sleep and I can borrow scrubs to get home in.”

Mulder didn’t have the brain cells to argue at this point, “Maggie? You okay to get him back?”

“Take my daughter home, Fox.”

Nod slight, eyes blurry, he turned Scully and guided her out the door, horizontal foremost on his mind. Instead of home, however, they headed back to Maggie’s, finding the Gunmen asleep at the counter and table. Leaving them quiet, Mulder stumbled Scully to the back bedroom and before either could remove shoes, they were out, sleeping off four days of adrenalin fueled panic, fear and frustration.

&&&&&&&

Maggie got Skinner settled upstairs before waking Frohike to help her move Langley and Byers to the living room floor, blankets abundant and pillows inviting. Once they were tucked in, she went to find FoxNDana, removing shoes, combing back hair, kissing cheeks and pulling up covers, closing blinds tight and clicking door shut.

Maggie only then went to bed herself, making sure to twist locks a second time, check window latches and before slipping under the covers beside her Walter, setting his gun on her bedside table. 

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Glasses

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You … The Chip … Date Night … Evidence of Things Unseen ... Maggie’s Walter

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

*********************

By midnight, Maggie was stoically sitting on the kitchen table, hands clasped, back straight, slipping silently through the minutes while everyone bustled around her, questions happening, phone ringing, Scully beside her, not knowing what to say or how to comfort except to pat her hand and be.

Mulder stood, rubbing the back of his neck, muscles stiff from hunching beside Langley and his magical, hacking laptop at the counter. About to ask if they needed anything, he stopped suddenly, his fingers finding the small scar of a microchip that could change the world in a heartbeat.

It was a small movement, to the rest of the world a weary, worried one.

To Scully, it was one of sheer and utter gut-dropping panic and muscles tightening as she reached for her own neck, she whispered to him, terror clear across the room, Frohike whipping his head around at the despondency it carried, “we never checked him.”

Mulder wanted to vomit on the spot, “he went with me. He was out of my sights for at least an hour. Who knows what they could have done?”

“I sent him with you. I made him go with you.” Moving her hand to her mouth, “oh, God, Mulder.”

Deciding his panic needed to take a backseat for awhile, he moved to her, “hey, hey, we don’t know if that’s it. I mean, there’s no reason for them to have given him one and we don’t know that they did. He could very well just have … I don’t … maybe he’s undercover like I was and couldn’t tell anybody or …”

Cutting him off, her fingers twisting with his, “there are plenty of possibilities but if it’s this,” free hand still on her neck, finger tapping technological bump of living nightmares, “we’re approaching it all wrong.”

“Then I have no idea what to do.”

&&&&&&&&&

Inactivity made her bones itch. 3am was a time for sleep, not frustration, not pacing as her mother drank tea and silently panicked. This nonsensical waiting around a well-lit room with Skinner somewhere lost in the dark wasn’t cutting it. “Mulder.”

“You want to go look, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I don’t know where to start. If this were you, I’d be breaking down doors and tossing people through walls but I have absolutely no idea with Skinner and it’s making me crazy.”

Mulder, antsy as well, growled his irritation, then, moving to Scully, stopped her mid-stride, attempted to smooth the worry wrinkle creasing her forehead, settling deep between her eyebrows, “should I see if I can find him?”

Wishing she didn’t have to involve that cancer asshole, she nodded, “any idea how?”

“I have an idea but I don’t know if anything’ll come of it.”

“Try it anyway, please.”

About to dance with the devil, Frohike called him over, “hey, so, there’s this weird string of emails about disciplinary action on an agent involving a shooting … something about the guy’s partner and Skinner having to reprimand him. Could that be something?”

Anything to stave off cigarette man a little longer, “let’s call around and see if anything pans out.”

&&&&&&&&

Pan out it did. Agent Bibbins hadn’t come to work in several days and once Mulder showed up at his front door, other agents flanking him, Frohike received an email via Skinner’s account,

“Found me faster than I expected. You probably won’t find him though.”

That just pissed Frohike off, “that little fucking punk thinks he can take Walter! Walter’s ours, goddammit!” Smacking Langley on the arm, “we gotta fire up the big guns. Go wake up Mibty, we’ve got work to do.”

Scully, not sure if sleep made her hear things wrong, “Mibty?”

“Yeah, Mine Is Better Than Yours. It’s the computer we only turn on for the big jobs. Pulls power like you wouldn’t believe. We dimmed the White House once; sent that joint into chaos.” Finally cracking a smile, “that was a fun night.”

And this was one of those times she didn’t question, simply nodding her appreciation for the mythical powers of ‘Mibty’, “drain the power, boys.”

‘Mibty’ however, could only get them so far, the cameras of the city running through facial recognition but coming up empty. Several sloppy algorithms later, they did manage to find six license plates with partial matches to Bibbins car but all turned up empty, much to Byers frustration, causing him to pound the kitchen counter with his fist, a tantrum tantamount to a four-year-old lighting the world on fire.

Maggie, however, was more of a concern than the Corian, her eyes glazed, stirring her ice-cold tea absently, her stare focused on the wall, “mom? Do you want to go try to get some sleep?”

“I would like you to find Walter for me. I will sleep once that happens.”

“Mom, we’re working on it but this could take more than a few hours. Bibbins isn’t giving us much to go on.”

Her gaze still fixed elsewhere, “you’ve chased enough of these people. If you were him, where is the first place you’d go and the last place another agent would look? He’s one of you so he must be avoiding everything he knows you’ll do.” Finally looking at her daughter, “what would you do if you kidnapped Walter?”

For all the knowledge between everyone working the case, she didn’t think it had occurred to anyone to do what her mother was suggesting. Thinking hard, moving her mind in singular focus, she stood statue-like for more than a minute, three blurry-eyed Gunmen and one attentive mother waiting quietly, “I would keep him close, actually. We would first search near the car, then branch out but since I’d know that, I’d stay as close to where I tracked him from as I could. It’s that whole return to the scene of the crime thing but instead,” looking through the night dark glass of the back door at the house roofs peaking over the trees, “I’d come back here, to the neighborhood … to an empty house.”

Byers was already on the phone to Mulder, “get over here. Scully may have just figured out where he is.”

Still talking to herself, “but how would he have known to send the email?”

“Easy. Camera in the house, porch area, connect to them with a laptop, watch what’s going on.” Frohike, his hand hesitant on her arm, “Mulder’ll get him.”

Having given a brief summation, Byers surrendered the phone into her hands, “Mulder?”

As usual, he cut to the chase, “are there any empty houses in the neighborhood? For sale? People on vacation? Does Mom know?”

After relaying the question to Maggie, she echoed the response back to Mulder, “the one on the corner of this street and there’s one directly behind us, one house to the East.”

Knowing she was right in her assessment, he was already in the car on the way back, “stay inside. Lock the door. You have your gun?”

“Armed and ready. Smack this bastard once for me, would you?”

“Twice because I love you. You’ll see us in a few.”

Lights, noise, gunfire, negotiation, gunfire, SWAT calls and Mulder standing in abject superiority over the sobbing body of one Agent Bibbins, soon to be, Mulder hoped, Convict #44352139; he called her back with a light in his voice, a vocal lilt of pure satisfaction at having won this round with a giant pain in his ass.

“He’s crying like a small child in front of me as we speak.”

“Skinner?”

“No, Bibbins. They’re getting Skinner now.” Scully, repeating this to her mother, still had a smile on her face when she heard muffled shouts and Mulder’s voice yelling, “what?!”

“Mulder? Mulder, what happened?”

Commotion continued and about to leave the house and walk over to see what had happened, Mulder came back on the line, only a hair above a whisper, “he’s not here.”

“What?”

“Skinner. He’s not here.”

At that moment, Bibbins stopped his bawling and, as another officer patted him down again, looking for anything that might clue them in as to where he was stashing Skinner, Bibbins angled his head at the infuriating tilt of ‘I know something you don’t know’ and watched the officer pull metal frames out of the breast pocket of his not so crisp and clean button down.

Handing the item to Mulder, “oh, God.”

“Mulder? What?!”

Mulder turned the wire-rimmed evidence over and over between his fingers, “he has Walter’s glasses.”

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Never Replace You

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners ... News

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

*********************

“No. I’m just going to quit. It’ll be easier. What did you say I should become again? Cooker of books for your dessert shop?” Throwing himself down on the couch, he bounced up again, hand gripping his hair, yanking several times, pacing twice around the table before coming to a stop by the window, “seriously? How much math does a bookkeeper really need to do these days? There’re computer programs and calculators and sharp pencils. The accounting practically does itself.”

Scully wanted to throw a few of those sharpened pencils at him but she refrained, “would you sit back down, please?! You’re annoying the hell out of me and I’m already hungry. Just … sit … and be quiet.”

He did not comply, wandering the room instead, “we’ve read through every one of these backgrounds twice already and each one is worse than the last. I give up. They’re all terrible and dangerous and from what I can tell, not open to even the remotest of extreme possibilities.”

“Neither was I, Mulder, and look how well I turned out.”

“You have never once agreed with one word that’s come out of my mouth regarding anything in seven years. I haven’t convinced you of a damn thing.”

“But you’re still alive.”

He had absolutely no response to this and having the sneaking suspicion he may have somehow lost his argument surrounded by hypnotic voice and reverse psychology, he finally sat down, elbows to knees, “can’t I just deputize the Gunmen as one entity, have them dress all in black so they’re interchangeable and do some funky poaching in the dark of night with you monitoring the camera I have attached to my head? Is that so much to ask?”

“And what would their name be?”

“I don’t know … Frolangers, maybe?”

Scully really was going to hit him, “neither of us is good at diplomacy on an empty stomach. Do you know if we have anything for dinner?”

“Not a clue. We were arguing too much yesterday to remember to shop; I think we ordered from the diner.

“I want pancakes … and bacon. Lots of bacon.”

Knowing this evening would be shot to hell if he didn’t get some food in both of them, he moved again, wandering to the pantry and digging in, “we have pancake mix,” moving to the freezer, “and while we do not have any bacon, we have a crap-ton of sausage, what the hell, was it on sale or something, and a bag of chicken nuggets.”

Scully was beside him in a heartbeat, stomach angry, cravings real, “where do we keep chocolate chips?”

“Do we own chocolate chips?”

“No self-respecting Scully goes without at least one bag of them in the house.” Unearthing from a lower cupboard, she held them aloft, “chocolate chip pancakes it is. Find me a frying pan, please; if I don’t eat in five minutes, I’m going to pour the chocolate directly down my throat.”

She was scary.

It amused him.

Soon, pancakes were being doused in syrup and coated with a thick layer of butter, soggy as an eight-hour rain day with maple-y goodness. Scully, carrying her plateful and another bowl of sausages to the couch, settled in, eyeing Mulder’s plate as he devoured his first bite mid-route to his spot beside her, “you going to share at all?”

“Eyes on your own plate, Agent.”

“You have one more pancake than I do.”

His grin came on so suddenly that the sausage piece he’d just bitten off rolled from his mouth back onto the plate, “let’s negotiate at the end and I might be persuaded to give you a bite or two.”

“I’ll trade you some dessert for it.”

She was smiling all the while and he stopped mid-pancake cut, “we have dessert?”

And the smile shifted to mischievous in an instant, “you’ll like it.”

He gave her the extra immediately.

He was not disappointed by the five minutes of grinding followed by the 10 of straddling sex with files scattered and syrupy-chocolate kisses abounding. As she lay against him, putty in his hands, malleable and soft, exhausted and spent, he whispered in her ear, voice low, “I can never replace you.”

Snuggling deeper into his chest, she managed to find the words to tell him, “you have to because I can never replace you.”

Pulling one of the myriad of blankets heaped around the room over them both, “we will find someone tonight, I promise.”

&&&&&&&&&&

2am rolled up after another 20-minute turned hour 15 power nap and Scully looked at him with rimmed eyes, dark and exhausted, “there is not one person in here with even the remotest possibility of doing what we do.”

Hating to admit defeat, especially when he knew how much she had wanted to find at least one person in the pile, “we can go through them again, I mean, maybe something will jump out that we haven’t seen the last four times.”

She dropped her head back to the arm of the couch, feet wiggling until they were under his warm and cozy butt cheek, “that would just give me more of a headache and besides, if I didn’t like them the first time around, the fifth won’t suddenly, magically endear them to me, either.”

“Then we need to call Betsy, ask her to use her powers for good instead of evil and have her persuade Uncle Skimmer that he’ll have to be my partner until further notice but right now, we need to go to sleep.” Standing from their paper-whirled cocoon, he gathered bowls, stray dishtowels, candy wrappers and mugs, “because I need you and a bed and the feel of warm body and fuzzy flannel.”

Deciding defeat wasn’t so bad after all, she rolled off the couch, standing and swaying, “I can do that.”

He moved her down the hall, hands on hips, steering to clear a stack of shoes and a pesky doorframe, “What will we call it?”

“What?”

“Our donut shop? I was thinking ‘So Good You Could Donuts’.” A solitary chuckle told him he’d done good, “or maybe ‘Go Nuts Donuts’.”

“Just get in bed.” Finally settled, half-snoozed, half-mind-racing, “Donutty?”

“You realize that sooner or later, that will have to happen, yes?”

“G’night, Mulder.”

“G’Donut, Scully.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The following morning, after meeting Maggie at church and taking her out to breakfast, the pair of them yawned their way through coffee until Skinner showed up, having been called out for some other agent’s issue. Coming into the kitchen, he stopped when he saw them, “did I lose four hours from the front door to here?”

Maggie stood, kissing his cheek, “no. Dana and Fox came to church and took me to breakfast and now I’m trying to keep them awake long enough to finish their coffee before I send them for a nap.”

Skinner eyed the file carton innocently shoved in the corner of the kitchen, “up all night with those?”

Mulder nodded, “yeah. I’ve been through that stack so many times I can recite each file by memory.”

As he collected his own coffee and sat down, “find any?”

“No and therein lies the problem.”

Turning his judging eyebrow from Mulder to Scully, “you couldn’t talk him into any of them?”

“It was me, Walter. Mulder wanted to go through again and I just …” giving him an embarrassed look, “I don’t see myself trusting any of them.”

Skinner looked at Mulder, only half-joking, “what the hell have you done to her?”

Mulder decided to take the humor side and respond in kind, “do you really want to know?” That killed any type of serious mood as Maggie blushed, Scully blushed, Skinner blushed and Mulder continued, “anyway, we figured maybe you could look through them, tell us if you have any more info that might change our minds?”

He didn’t get up, instead leaning back in the chair, glasses removed for a moment or two to rub his eyes, “can you give me half-hour for a shower? I’ve been in Arlington most of the night with a rookie who shot his partner and is now backpedaling his story.”

Both nodded and once Skinner stood up, Mulder spoke, “I always forget you have other agents to deal with besides us. This guy hasn’t knocked us off the top of your ‘pain in the ass’ scale, has he?”

“Oh, no, Mulder. You two are too far up on that list for any mortal to reach.”

Once he was gone, Scully looked at her mother, “is he officially moved in here yet?”

“No sugar coating today, I see.”

Grinning at her mom over her edge of her mug, “just curious if I should start knocking on all closed doors from now on.”

“Yes, dear, please do.”

&&&&&&&&

They spread out the files in the living room until people began showing up and once everyone left again, the files came back out. By 10pm, Mulder had a headache the size of the Washington Monument, its pointy little end jabbing behind his eye, “I’ll work alone. I’ll just avoid cases where I have to travel and the ones around here will be background checks and witness follow-ups; hell, I’ll do other peoples background checks and witness follow-ups. It’s fine.”

Scully’s hand, already on his thigh, tightened its grip, “you will hate your job in under three days.”

“But I’ll love my kid and you forever so it’s not that difficult of a choice in the end.”

Skinner took one last shot, hoping to break one of them, “will you just talk to this Doggett guy? I knew a guy who knew a guy who knew him in the Marines and he’s got an excellent history.”

Mulder nearly caved but Scully spoke first, “and he’s got a rec letter from his friend in the DoD. He was a no even before we began this insanity.”

Skinner flopped back on the couch, hating them both … Mulder flopped back on the carpet, hating the world … Scully sat their quietly, eyeing her mother reading her book, “what do you think, Mom?”

Placing her finger in the pages, carefully closing the book but keeping her spot, signaling this would not be a long conversation, “I think that only you two can judge who you work with but if Fox needs a partner in order to keep you out of the field, I would like to vote that Walter goes on out of town assignments when you have them but for local work, keep it to your self-defined mundane nightmare of non-threatening inquires.”

She re-opened her book.

She did not look at Walter.

Walter, sitting there, felt his finely-honed decision-making skills caving to the reality of his personal life and looking from the man who irritated him to the ends of the Earth to the woman who was carrying the grandchild of the woman he felt certain he would eventually marry or at least live with for the next 70 years, realized that he had people he had to watch out for. Also realizing as well that this might only mean one or two trips out a month, he justified by labeling it field reacquaintance and skill improvement, “two out of town cases a month at most, understand?”

Scully stood, turned, wiggled herself in between her mother and Skinner, hugged him as awkwardly as possible from the side, “thank you, Walter.”

“You don’t have to hug me, Scully.”

“Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Another 10 seconds, then I’ll leave you be.”

When she finally let go, he discovered he kind of missed her.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Desolation

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Not knowing he fell asleep, he first sensed closeness, then contact, cold fingers skating along ribcage, shirt pulling against her knuckles given its tight twist around his chest. Shifting slightly, he opened an eye to find the room dark, shades hiding full moon night, “you okay?”

Shaking her head into his shoulder, she moved her hand higher to brush over his nipple, then lower to toy with his hipbone, “I need a shower.”

“Want some company?”

“Yes, please.”

First time getting a good, long look at her since Pfaster’s attack, his rage went from simmer to boil in under a heartbeat, reaching out to touch deep purple bruises and scabbing scrapes, keeping his voice an even keel, “how much do you hurt?”

“Heart or body?”

Face in his hands, naked in the steam, he kissed her hard, wishing he could draw out the pain with contact, heal her soul with his passion for her, thumbs caressing cheekbones when he finally drew back for breath, “both.”

Tears welled up again as she shook her head, “please don’t ask. Not yet.”

“No.” Almost laughing at the shock flitting through her eyes, “I’m going to keep asking. You don’t have to answer right away but I’m not stopping until you let me in … understand? You don’t get to deal with anything all alone ever again. That’s how this works. MulderNScully ‘til the end of time, red M&M’ing it at every turn, forever.”

But a smile wouldn’t come, quiet greeting his comment, hand simply reaching for his and stepping into the billowing shower, pulling him along with her, refuge in rhythmic spray and familiar Mulder.

&&&&&&&&&&&

He turned off the phones after the third message by the detectives in charge of her case; texting Skinner to get the men off her back for a few days, he crawled back beside her in his bed, sheets clean, bodies clean, hearts somewhere on the third floor of the hospital. Her eyes were closed but he knew she was still awake, hiding from him, the world, the universe, and turning on his side to face her, pressing forehead to hers in that once again intimate gesture that left kissing a distant second, he cupped her jaw, then slid his hand ‘round the back of her neck, “I don’t know what to do to help you.”

As her face crumbled once again, fat tears escaping down the curve of her nose, “just don’t leave me. I can’t handle losing anyone else.”

“Not now and not ever, I swear to you.”

And he cried with her.

&&&&&&&&&&&

When they finally moved to the living room, Scully shuffled slow, grimacing every step, her battered body feeling its beating today. In full-on sympathy mode, Mulder offered Mac and Cheese and hot dogs, a sure-fire way to her heart any other moment in history but today, she shook her head, “I’m not really hungry right now. Maybe later.”

He watched her quietly burrow into the corner of the couch, head against back, knees pulled up and realizing it was time, he crouched in front of her, hands tight around ankles, “would you like me to get your mom?”

Eyes painfully dry, she nodded, “yes, please.”

&&&&&&&&

Maggie had been sharing a quiet cup of coffee with Skinner, Sunday dinner over, house empty, dust settling when Mulder called, “Maggie?”

“Fox, how is she?”

“She needs her mom.”

Without waste of syllables, “leaving now.” Hanging up, she looked at Walter, “would you like to come visit Dana?”

Sudden panic coursed through him, “I … I don’t … think she really wants her boss to intrude. I’ll head home. It’s fine.”

Maggie first reached for his hand, then turned a quirked eyebrow at him, “you are not only her boss anymore and maybe you could get Fox out of the house for a bit?”

He really did want to say ‘yes’, to help out his favorite agents but, “I’m the one who put them back on Pfaster. She’s not going to want to look at me right now.”

“Walter?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t do this. She didn’t do this. No one is to blame for any of this except that devil of a man. She will be fine but it’s up to you. If you don’t come, you can stay until I get back if you’d like or come over tomorrow like planned. It’s entirely up to you.” Giving him a gentle smile, “but I’m leaving in two minutes so decide quickly.”

Swallowing hard, he built his little confidence wall of ‘I’m a Marine don’t mess with me’ and stood, “would you like me to drive?”

Maggie knocked lightly once they arrived, hugging Mulder tight when he answered his door, “she on the couch or in the bedroom?”

Stepping aside to let her in, he did a double take at Skinner in the hall then gave the man a smile, “couch. Go on in.”

Skinner hovered, gesturing a ‘hello’ to an already cracked Scully before Mulder rescued him, “Scully, we’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Do you want anything to eat?”

Seeing her shake her head, he jammed his feet in ratty sneakers and gestured Skinner back out the front door, locking it behind him. The moment they were alone, Mulder expected awkwardness to settle but Skinner just looked at him, offering the universal equalizer, “need some coffee?”

“Espresso if you’re buying.”

“Lead the way.”

&&&&&&&&&

Over an hour later, streetlights just turning on, the pair of them headed back up to Mulder’s apartment, comfortable with each other after two coffees apiece, several Danish and a long talk about absolutely nothing of any notable consequence. Opening his front door, he nearly called out before spying Scully, asleep with her head on Maggie’s lap. Not wanting to wake her, he motioned for Skinner to be quiet then headed to the couch, talking low, “any better?”

“Not better but breathing easier.”

He couldn’t really ask for more than that, “want me to take over?”

Seeing her nod, he did some fancy switch and scoot, taking over seamlessly, Scully never moving a muscle. Looking up at the pair standing above them, “thank you.”

Maggie kissed the crown of his head, mashing down windblown hair, watching it spring back into action, “I can stay longer if you’d like.”

“I think I’ve got it for now but don’t go too far from your phone, all right?”

“I won’t.” Kissing her daughter goodbye as well, her and Skinner disappeared, leaving them alone once again, Scully peacefully, restlessness subsided for the moment.

He prayed he’d get her back in one piece.

[therobbinsnest]

I ran in the bathroom and locked the door to get away from my house full of people when I saw this posted. I LOVE maggieNskinner ... LOVE that skinner has been given an emotional component and is more human than ever. And of course the banter, and visualization of what is unfolding in their everyday lives is so spot on it’s scary. LOVE all of it.

Never Replace You

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

*********************

“No. I’m just going to quit. It’ll be easier. What did you say I should become again? Cooker of books for your dessert shop?” Throwing himself down on the couch, he bounced up again, hand gripping his hair, yanking several times, pacing twice around the table before coming to a stop by the window, “seriously? How much math does a bookkeeper really need to do these days? There’re computer programs and calculators and sharp pencils. The accounting practically does itself.”

Scully wanted to throw a few of those sharpened pencils at him but she refrained, “would you sit back down, please?! You’re annoying the hell out of me and I’m already hungry. Just … sit … and be quiet.”

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