TITLE: The Way
Things Are
AUTHOR: Sukie Tawdry
EMAIL: sukie_tawdry@hotmail.com
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: Season 1
CATEGORY: Guess you could call it AU. Diverges
from canon some time during season 1.
KEYWORDS: Story, M/S (some elements of M/other)
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me. Sniff
SUMMARY: One night and their whole lives were changed
forever.
FEEDBACK: Good or not so good--go ahead. I can
take it. I'm a big girl.
ARCHIVE: Again, go ahead.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks go to Sybils for wonderful beta and support.
And a big thank you to Foxymulderluver for giving
this story a home on her website:
http://www.oocities.org/foxymulderluver
Part 14 - Faith
If she ever got her hands on him she was going to kill Mulder.
What on earth was he thinking? Or not thinking. She flashed
back to a motel room in
when her back was turned. That time, he'd ended up dazed and
unable to recall what happened to him. What condition would she
find him in this time?
She'd gone home around
empty office. Mulder was a grown man. She wasn't even sure he
was in trouble. He might be following a perfectly reasonable
lead. He could take care of himself. She just had to make
herself believe it.
She'd be fine, if she could just get that damn alarm to stop
blaring in her head. Scully tried to eat some dinner but ended
up tossing most of the Lean Cuisine meal into the trash.
By
called the telecommunication department, luckily getting someone
she knew. The woman agreed to trace the call put through to
Mulder's extension around
Fifteen minutes later, her contact called back with the
information. The call had originated from a pay phone in
O'Neill's Irish Pub. Scully recognized the name of the upscale
bar near the
Mulder was probably waiting for a contact that never showed up,
sitting in the bar or standing on a street corner. She was
sure he was perfectly safe. She was definitely over-reacting.
Scully couldn't call Skinner, at least not yet. She had no evidence
that Mulder was in trouble, only her admittedly hormone-laced
instincts to tell her that something wasn't right.
She shrugged into her coat and grabbed her car keys, checking
to be sure her weapon was secure at the small of her back.
Locking the door behind her, she drove to the bar.
O'Neill's was dark and noisy though it was past peak for
weeknight drinking. Well-dressed if somewhat rumpled patrons
shouted drunkenly over the blaring music, while the local
news flashed mutely from the overhead TV.
"Hey, Keesha, another brew."
Careful of her long nails, the bartender deftly filled a glass
and delivered it to the waiting customer. Scully waved her
badge to get the woman's attention
"When did you come on shift?" Scully asked, shouting to be
heard above the noise.
"Pulled a double--been here since
"I'm looking for a man," Scully said, slipping her badge back in
her pocket.
"Honey, aren't we all!" The woman's brown eyes crinkled in
amusement.
"The man I'm looking for is thin, six feet tall, dark hair,
well dressed."
"Personally, I like mine kind of buff," the bartender laughed.
"But to each her own, I always say. Listen, I see a lot of
people, and I try to forget them as soon as they pay their tab.
I don't remember anybody looked like that."
Scully sighed, trying to rein in her anxiety.
"Do you have a pay phone?" Scully asked. Keesha gestured through
an arch to a shadowy hallway. Scully squinted through the smoke,
her heart sinking; the phone wasn't visible from the bar. Hell,
the question had to be asked, no matter how pointless.
"Did you notice someone making a call around four this afternoon?"
"Lady, you think all I do is look at people? I don't know..."
Keesha paused in thought. "Come to think of it...a woman did
ask me where the phone was. Coulda been around four. Coulda
been earlier."
"What did she look like?" Scully asked, fingernails digging into
her palms. The baby moved within her, and she placed a hand over
that spot as if to comfort her child.
"Tall, blonde. Good-looking. It was busy--I barely glanced at
her." A look of dawning understanding passed over the woman's
face. Keesha's expression softened as she looked at Scully's belly.
"Geez, I'm sorry. What kind of shit cheats on a pregnant woman?
You know what? You deserve better than this. I'd kick this guy to
the curb, if I was you."
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She returned to her apartment, hoping desperately that she'd walk
in to find Mulder watching TV and wondering where she'd gone.
Disappointment sliced through her as she passed through the empty
apartment to her dark bedroom.
With only the light from the hall, she dropped her coat on the
chair in her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. Her lower back
ached as it did most nights now the baby threw her posture
off. Mulder gave her a massage every evening, working the knots
out with his strong, talented hands. God, she wished he was
home.
Still in her work clothes, Scully stretched out on the bed. She
needed to weigh her options, but her body was screaming for rest.
Barely able to keep her eyes open, exhaustion took its toll and
she fell asleep.
She was cold, so very cold. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in
the sterile furnishings. Oh God, she was back. Scully had counted
every one of the ceiling tiles when she was here before and knew
each inch of the walls. Groaning in misery and fear, she waited
for the footsteps in the hall announcing her tormenter's approach.
But there were no sounds beyond the door. Swinging her legs
over the side of the bed, she hopped down. She was glad to
find they hadn't dressed her in a hospital gown this time--she
was still wearing her maternity suit. The floor was cold
under her stocking-clad feet.
She reached the door, and to her surprise, the handle turned
easily and the door swung open. Maybe this time she'd be able
to escape before Rabbitface caught her. Her shoes were
nowhere to be found, but at least she was silent as she slipped
into the brightly lit hall.
There didn't seem to be a stairway or elevator at either end
of the hall, but instead, a closed door at each end. Perhaps one
of them led to an exit. It seemed to be colder out here than in
her room. She hurried to one door, pulling it open.
She shivered as she peered into an examination room jammed with
medical equipment. She couldn't identify any of the machines as
she squinted at their flashing digital displays. A tray of
instruments was laid out next to the exam table. They gleamed
brightly and all looked torturous, but like the machines, each
one was foreign to her. She blinked her eyes, astounded at the
unfamiliarity of everything. Only the stirrups on the exam table
were recognizable.
There was no exit through this room. She closed the door behind
her and scurried down the hall to the other door. As she
approached, she heard a woman moaning. Was someone being hurt?
Her knees felt as if they were made of jelly as her hand grasped
the doorknob. She had to find out who was behind the door
and save her.
The door swung open and she held her breath at the sight before
her. The man and woman in the room didn't hear her; they were too
engrossed in fucking to notice. The woman's moans grew louder as
the man drove into her, his well-muscled buttocks straining with
each thrust. The woman's blonde hair cascaded as she tossed her
head from side to side.
The man was panting, a fine sheen of sweat on his taut back. His
dark head was down as he pistoned into the woman. Suddenly, he
threw back his head in passion, and Scully saw the man was Mulder.
Gasping at the shock, she gripped the doorframe to keep from
falling. The sound at the door finally getting his attention,
Mulder glanced at her, an expression of mild amusement on his face.
"Well look who's here," he said, smirking. "Enjoying yourself,
Scully?"
She awoke with a jolt, every muscle tensed. Pushing the hair from
her face, she struggled to sit up. Scully shook her head, trying
to clear cobwebs that remained from the dream. Damn that bartender
for putting the awful image in her mind.
The room was still dark, though the light behind the window shade
hinted at early morning. She looked at her clock and saw
that it was just after five in the morning. Mulder had been
missing for over twelve hours now.
Cursing whatever insecurities still dwelled in her, she climbed
off the bed. "Fucking hormones," she muttered, making her way
to the bathroom. Scully turned on the shower, stripping off her
suit while the water warmed.
It all came down to faith. Did she have faith in Mulder? Did
she believe he loved her and would never betray her? She had
only to recall his eyes, the complete truth and honesty when he
looked at her, and she had the answer to her questions. All
she had to do was believe.
She stepped under the spray, allowing the hot water to wash away
the remnants of her dream. Scully's hands lingered over the
baby within her, drawing soapy circles over her belly as she
tried to calm her breathing.
Scully finished her shower and dressed quickly. Standing in
the kitchen, she watched the sun rise as she ate a bagel that
seemed to have no flavor at all. It was barely seven o'clock
when she left her apartment for work.
She knew most mornings, her boss arrived early, even before his
assistant. Scully waited on the bench outside Skinner's office.
Standing, she caught his attention as he strode down the hall.
"Agent Scully," he said in surprise. "Is something wrong?"
"I think so, sir. Could we go in and talk?" she asked.
Skinner ushered her into his inner office, gesturing for her
to sit in one of the chairs facing the desk. She bit her lip
trying not to focus on why the other chair was empty. Her boss
hung up his overcoat before sitting behind his desk.
"So, Agent Scully, what's the problem?" he asked, his voice not
unkind. "Does this have to do with Agent Mulder?"
"He's missing, sir."
"I saw him yesterday afternoon, Scully. He can't have been missing
for long."
"Well, no," she conceded. "He flew out of the office around four
yesterday afternoon. Said he was chasing down some evidence, but
I honestly can't think of any case that had anything pending."
"Agent Scully, I'm still not sure what the problem is. Mulder's
been known to tear off on his own."
"He...uh...he didn't come home last night," she said, unable to
meet Skinner's eye after such a personal detail.
Her boss seemed to mull this over, perhaps coming to grips with
the implications. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Agent Mulder
has been a bachelor for a long time, Scully. Could he...have
needed some time away?"
"No, sir. At least, I don't think so. I think he might be in
trouble."
Skinner studied the backs of his hands, his expression unreadable.
He was silent so long; Scully began to wonder if her boss had
forgotten she was there. His voice startled her when he finally
spoke.
"I'll make a few inquiries. Go back to your office
and see if he left any clues there."
Mulder trusted this man and deep down, part of her wanted to
trust him too. Regardless of Skinner's involvement with the
cigarette man, she detected an integrity, a desire for honor.
Scully rose, energized by the prospect of action. As she
reached the office door, his voice was gentle as he called
her name.
"Scully. I'll call you if I find anything."
She returned to the basement office and stood in front of
Mulder's desk, no longer worried about over-reacting. As she
picked through the files, tabloid clippings, notes from cases
they'd worked on, she tried not to think as Mulder's lover,
but as the investigator she had always been.
She found no clue in the desk that would tell her where Mulder
had gone. She found his rather endearing reminder to himself
to pick up more Haagen-Dazs Chocolate Brownie ice cream. It
was her favorite flavor and she hadn't even asked him to get it.
Probably self-defense; she smiled to herself. Pregnant women
were safer to deal with when you had a container of ice cream
in your hand.
Scully spent the day in the office, jumping each time the phone
rang. Her heart would pound as she'd pick it up, only to find
that it was Agent Henderson from Fingerprint Analysis, or an
elderly woman who was sure a gnome was living under her front
porch and was responsible for the disappearance of her cat,
Fluffy.
Skinner came down to the basement office at the end of the
afternoon, unfortunately without good news. He'd called in a
few favors, but hadn't found any information on Mulder's location.
Scully wondered what it had cost her boss to ask questions of the
shadowy men he dealt with.
The big man took a close look at her pale face and sent her home.
He promised to call her with information as soon as he could.
She couldn't bring herself to argue. It wasn't as if she'd been
able to work, and she was exhausted.
Worry, fear and seven months worth of pregnancy had sapped any
energy she had this morning. Wearily, she snapped off the office
lights and locked the door behind her.
Scully was distracted as she arrived back at her apartment. It
was now over twenty-four hours since Mulder had left the office.
So many things could happen to a man in twenty-four hours.
The key turned in the lock, but the door wouldn't open. Something
seemed to be blocking it--something that groaned when she gave
the door a shove.
"Oh my God, Mulder! What happened to you?"
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