#woo! we have a chapter total now! last leg of the journey lads

[cock-holliday]

Bait & Switch

Chapter 7/10

(Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 4s, 5, 6, 8)

Post-Dreamland AU

Fandom: TXF

Rating: T

WC: 2246

Scully and Mulder both took off after Judge Graham, and Scully was exhilarated at how quickly she left Mulder behind in the dust. Her long strides dwarfed his and she was gaining on the judge. She picked up speed, closing the distance between her and Judge Graham. In her peripherals she could see Mulder stop and double back, possibly to help her cut Graham off–her usual strategy when she couldn't keep up.

Scully was nearly on him when Judge Graham looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide in horror as he burnt the last of his speed.

Scully tackled him to the ground, sending them both crashing hard.

Judge Graham swung a punch at Scully, connecting with her cheek and jerking her head back. She quickly rolled Judge Graham onto his stomach, cuffing him behind his back.

“You are under arrest, you piece of shit…” Scully breathed out.

Ahead of her, Mulder came trotting to a stop. His eyes were wide in concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Scully replied back, “I got him. Go see if his friend is still there.”

Mulder did as suggested and jogged back.

Once Scully had Judge Graham on his feet, she led him back to his house, wincing a bit at the bruises she was sure were going to form tonight.

As she came back into the driveway, there was no sign of the smartly-dressed man. Or Mulder. She dragged Judge Graham over to his mailbox, uncuffing him and then recuffing him to the pole.

“Stay,” she barked, turning her gaze to the judge’s open front door.

She drew her weapon, carefully entering the house and scanning around.

“Mulder?” she called into the house.

She was met with a loud crash and she immediately raced to find the source. In the living room, Mulder was on the floor on his back, struggling to keep the smartly-dressed man from plunging a knife into his chest.

“Federal agent!” Scully barked, “Drop the knife right now!”

The smartly dressed man looked up, and in the distraction Mulder kicked him backwards, sending him stumbling. Mulder scrambled away on hands and knees, panting heavily. Scully stepped forward, standing now between the man and where Mulder was sitting.

“Down on the ground!”

The man tossed away the knife and did as told.

Mulder stood up, pulling out cuffs and walking slowly over to the man on the floor and securing him. He pulled the man upright, and locked eyes with Scully.

His gaze landed on her cheek and widened and she knew she must have a mark already.

“M’okay,” Scully assured, “Graham’s cuffed to the mailbox.”

Mulder snorted a laugh, “Did you lift the flag for pickup?”

Scully let out a huff of her own, grateful for a release of tension.

Uniforms eventually came to pick the men up, taking them away and leaving Scully and Mulder alone again on the lawn. Scully sighed, feeling the exhaustion of an adrenaline crash take hold of her. She looked down at Mulder and realized his arm was bleeding.

“Mulder,” she chastised, reaching down and turning him so she could get a better look.

He made a surprised sound, as if he hadn’t noticed, and Scully began searching him for other cuts.

“I forgot he got me there,” Mulder explained, “That’s the only spot.”

Scully continued scanning anyway, and could feel Mulder staring up at her.

Their eyes met and he frowned, “Did he hurt you?”

Scully shook her head, “He got one good slug in, but that’s it.”

Mulder seemed to accept her answer, but his face remained sullen.

Scully led Mulder to her car, sitting him in the passenger seat with his legs out of the car. She dug around in the trunk for the medkit she kept and returned her attention to him. She carefully helped Mulder unbutton and remove his dress shirt, leaving him in a tank top. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was jagged. It would heal slowly.

Mulder’s expression grew more severe and he looked down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Scully shook her head as she began cleaning the wound, “For what?”

“I should have been more careful,” he said, “I’m not…me. This isn’t…it’s not my body.”

Scully stayed quiet, so Mulder continued, “If we switch back tomorrow and everything continues as normal…this is your injury now, not mine.”

Scully looked down at her hands–Mulder’s hands–as she gathered up gauze to wrap his arm. She pursed her lips, considering her words.

“Mulder…every injury you get is an injury I have to bear too. Not just now.”

She swallowed, wondering if she had overstepped, but Mulder was staring at her, his eyes piercing as he tried to meet hers. She met his gaze, determined not to waver. He searched her face for meaning, and Scully tried to give him answers with her eyes.

“I…care about you, deeply,” Scully added, then her eyes widened. She blushed and looked away.

Hearing the words in Mulder’s voice fulfilled something she didn’t realize she had wanted to hear so badly. To have it said plainly and without reservation. 

Mulder grinned at her, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Scully began wrapping his arm, giving herself something to do.

Mulder bit his lip and tipped his head to the side in consideration.

“Say, ‘You mean so much to me, Scully,’” he instructed.

Scully’s eyes snapped to Mulder’s and they narrowed, “No.”

“I’m not making fun,” Mulder clarified, “I mean it, say it.”

“No, Mulder, that’s stupid.”

“Say it,” Mulder pressed gently.

“Say, ‘Mulder, you’re an ass,’” Scully countered, rolling her eyes and resuming wrapping.

“I often do,” Mulder replied with a little laugh.

It wasn’t funny. This was exactly what she was talking about. He wasn’t careful. Not when it was him. He had to know it pained her when he got hurt. His injuries were hers. When he was in danger it was like a piece of Scully was dying. It wasn’t just now. Not just when they were each other.

“Say it,” Mulder whispered.

Scully rolled her eyes again, “Scully, you mean the world to me,” she said dryly. Even with the sarcasm, hearing the words in Mulder’s voice made her flush deeper regardless. She looked down, embarrassed that it worked.

Mulder only smiled, “Say it again.”

Scully’s eyes met his once more. Her mouth was dry. She was giving him a warning look, but Mulder just stared back at her in earnest.

“Scully,” she repeated, “You mean…the world to me.”

Mulder nodded, “Again.”

Scully laughed and shook her head, struck by the absurdity of the situation. She felt embarrassed. But she wanted to hear it again too. “Scully, you mean the world to me.”

Mulder nodded and then his smile began to fade, “I’m sorry I don’t say it.”

Scully smiled sadly, placing her hands on Mulder’s, “You did.”

----

At Scully’s apartment, Mulder flopped onto her couch, the aches and pains catching up with him. They would have to explain themselves to Kersh. The investigation had ended and now here they were, chasing suspects in the night. They each had insisted the other should take the fall for it–essentially each taking the fall for each other. Scully reasoned that an explanation coming from Scully would receive less punishment. Mulder tried to explain that Kersh would blame him regardless, so it was better for Mulder to take the blame.

In the end, they had resolved nothing about their plan, only that they would have to endure Kersh for a while and then they could be on a plane to Nevada. 

Mulder sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how Scully’s face lit up when she said those words in his voice. It had a more powerful effect on her than he could have possibly imagined. Had she desired to hear those words for so long, or did Mulder make her feel so unappreciated that the slightest hint of his affection made her blush?

Scully’s phone rang, and his heart began beating faster.

He grabbed it quickly, breathing a “Scully?” into the receiver.

“Dana, hi,” Maggie Scully’s voice greeted, “Sorry, I know it’s late.”

“Mrs…mom,” Mulder replied with a grimace, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course, dear,” Maggie reassured, “I’m not catching you too late, am I? I know it’s later than our usual calls…”

Oh. Oh! Mulder had forgotten that Scully tried to speak with her mother at least once a week, if not more often. They must not have talked if Maggie was calling now. Mulder liked Maggie a lot, but frankly he wasn’t in any mood to socialize.

“No…no it’s fine…I’m just getting home,” Mulder explained, “I was…I was working late. I’ll have to fill you in later.”

It wasn’t Mulder’s place to be the one to reveal things to Maggie that Scully might not on her own, but he didn’t want to brush Maggie off either. He would have to tread carefully. 

“Is everything alright? You sound tired,” Maggie went on.

Mulder smiled, “Yes, I am tired. It’s been a long and crazy week.”

There was a pause, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight,” Mulder insisted, “Maybe another day.”

He decided to switch gears, “How’s everything with you?”

Maggie launched into stories from home. What she had been up to this week, who she saw at the store. She gave Mulder some neighbor gossip, filled him in on some local drama, and then conversation turned to the family. She gave updates about Tara and Bill Jr. and Mulder did his best to not let contempt seep through as he prompted for details. She gave an update about Charlie. And then turned serious and gravely informed Mulder that a woman who had attended their church had passed away.

Mulder wrote down the name to tell Scully and put effort into sounding upset. He had no idea Scully’s connection and didn’t want to sound unphased by the woman’s passing. They didn’t dwell on the subject long before moving on, and eventually there was a lull in the conversation.

“How’s Fox?” Maggie asked.

Mulder smiled, “He’s good.”

Silence lingered on the line, and Mulder waited for Maggie to continue. Clearly she was doing the same.

“You should invite him to dinner with us next week,” Maggie pressed.

“I’m…sure he’d love that,” Mulder laughed, “But I’ll have to check with his schedule.”

Maggie chuckled, “Don’t you always say how he does nothing but work?”

Mulder snorted a laugh.

What else have I been saying?

“Well, you know Mulder,” Mulder said, “He keeps busy. I’ll see if he’s free. No promises.”

Dinner with Scully and her mom sounded lovely, but he had his doubts about whether Scully would find the offer as charming.

There was another pause on the line. Maggie made a sound like she was trying to decide something.

“Dana, dear…I know you said not to bring it up again…”

Mulder’s heart stopped beating.

“But I’ve been thinking about what you said. What he said to you. At the hospital.”

Mulder’s blood ran from his head.

“I know–I know you said you regretted telling me, but I just…maybe he did mean it?”

Mulder remained silent, clutching the phone like a lifeline.

“I was talking to Susan and she said her son had his wisdom teeth taken out and even though he was on some heavy medication, he truthfully confessed to stealing money from Susan’s purse…”

Mulder blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what he was hearing.

“Now, it’s not quite the same,” Maggie went on, “But being heavily medicated doesn’t mean there wasn’t truth to what he said…”

So she told Maggie what he said? She told her mother that he said that he loved her. And then she regretted telling her mother. And now Maggie was trying to convince her daughter that Mulder had meant it. Scully didn’t think he did.

Mulder couldn’t think of a single thing to say back.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie sighed, “I know things are…complicated…but maybe they don’t have to be.”

Mulder swallowed.

“I think you should talk to him.”

Yeah, probably, huh? Mulder thought blankly.

Silence continued to hang over them.

“Okay, I’ve said my peace,” Maggie concluded, “I know. You’re probably fuming at me, but I felt it needed to be said.”

“I should…” Mulder began, “I should probably go.”

Maggie sighed, “Okay. Just…think about it, will you? I think you’re making a mistake. You might not see it now, but I think you’ll regret not talking.”

“...o-okay…mom,” Mulder concluded, still reeling from what she had just said.

“Get some rest, honey, we’ll talk again soon. Love you.”

“Goodnight, you too,” Mulder concluded, hanging up the phone.

Scully told her mom. Scully told her mom and her mom thought they should talk about it. Scully didn’t think he meant it and she brought it up to her mother.

Mulder flopped back onto the couch.

He told her that he loved her. And he meant it.

Did Scully mean it back? Why would she tell her mother under such tense circumstances if the memory of it wasn’t weighing on her?

Did Scully…love him back?

He parted his lips, staring up at the ceiling and holding his breath.

“I love you,” he said out loud, feeling his heart clench at the sound.

It brought a heat to his face and he closed his eyes.

Maybe he’ll never hear her voice say that again, but maybe there was still a chance.