TITLE: White Roses
AUTHOR: Kitsunagari
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Mulder & Scully are of course the property of Chris Carter,
1013 productions and 20C Fox. At least in _this_ reality. Bwahahahaha
FEEDBACK: Yes please! Take pity on a new(ish) girl - here's where to send it
- kitsunagarix@yahoo.com. Unless of course, if you thought the story sucked - in that
case just print it out and stomp on it a couple of times - maybe feed it to your dog - let
your imagination take flight! Just don't flame me! :0)
DISTRIBUTION: Any old where, just so long as my name's attached. If you could also
drop me a quick email to let me know it would be much appreciated too!
SPOILERS: A very small (miniscule really) FTF one, plus even smaller season 2 and 5 spoilers.
CLASSIFICATION: S, R, A
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance
SUMMARY: Who is Mulder sending white roses to? Starring: JealousScully.
A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its
author.
- G. K. Chesterton, Heretics, 15
***************************************************************************
The phone rang.
Special Agent Dana Scully looked up in mild surprise from the file she was reading at
Mulder's desk, and reached for the phone.
"Dana Scully."
A woman's voice spoke uncertainly. "Uh...hello? This is Madeline from
Shop and Smell the Roses. I was looking for a Mr..." sounds of paper being rustled
crackled down the phone "...a Mr...Fox is it? Fox Mulder."
Scully grabbed the dwindling pad of Post-It notes nearest to her and picked up a pen.
"No, I'm sorry, he's actually not here right now...is there something I can help you with?"
"I don't know...maybe. Mr Mulder orders two delivered bunches of white roses every month..."
Scully's eyebrows shot up in surprise "it's just that, well, we've hired a new girl,
and she got all the orders confused, and well, the upshot is that we are all out of
white roses - can you help me with this, or do I have to speak to Mr Mulder?"
Scully took several seconds to find her voice. "Uh...no. I think you'll need to speak
directly to him. Can I get him to call you back?" She took down the phone number and
hung up, and sat staring at the Post-It notepad, as if the answers to the questions
that bubbled up in an endless stream would accommodatingly present themselves upon it.
Two bunches of white roses.
Every month.
Who would Mulder be sending roses to? It's not like he had...well, not like he had
a girlfriend.
Did he?
Scully slapped the Post-It notepad down sharply. If Mulder was sending roses to somebody
that was none of her business.
And she was _not_ jealous.
Where the hell was Mulder with that damn coffee anyway.
A coffee cup appeared as if by magic in front of her. "Here you go Scully...they didn't
have any skim milk left, so I got you a regular."
Scully jumped startled.
Mulder sat down in the chair opposite Scully and crossed his feet on top of the desk
and smiled at her. "Although maybe I should have made it a decaf."
Scully just treated him to a minor Look while she grasped desperately at the shreds
of her composure.
Mulder grinned at her a little more and took a sip of his coffee. Placing the cup
on the desk, he flicked his eyes back up to meet hers and leaned back in his chair.
"So, what did you find out?"
Scully's eyes widened and in a startled movement she knocked over her coffee cup
and quickly leapt to her feet to avoid the hot staining liquid, picking up the file
she had been perusing also, tipping off the brown puddle that had already formed on it.
"Damn it!" she exclaimed in impotent fury.
"Here," Mulder passed her a couple of the napkins that had come with the coffee
and they both mopped up the encroaching brown mess and finally restored the desk
to some sort of order. Mulder sprawled again in the chair on the other side of the desk
as Scully stood over the waste-paper basket, drying her hands with a napkin.
"So, Scully, all java-related mishaps aside, what did you find out?"
Scully finished off drying her hands and tossed the used napkin in the basket rather
viciously. Why did she feel as if she'd been snooping?
"Find out Mulder? About what?"
"About what?" Mulder looked at her with a slightly incredulous smile.
"About that file that you've been studying for the past couple of hours."
Scully sat down as comprehension dawned. "Oh, that."
"Did you find anything? Is there any reason for us to do down there?" Mulder prompted.
Scully picked up the slightly sodden file and toyed with it, not meeting Mulder's eyes.
"Uh, no. No. Everything in the autopsy report was just what I expected,
given the circumstances you described." She flicked her eyes up to meet his as he
nodded slowly, his expression slightly questioning, and then down again studying
the fascinating mysteries of the manila folder on her lap.
Silence filled the next few moments.
"Scully..."
"Hmm?" She looked up again, blue eyes slightly widened.
Mulder gave her an odd, appraising look. "Are you okay? You seem a little...
I don't know...on edge."
She blinked at him. "I'm fine Mulder." Her eyes darted to the partially
buried 'Out' tray on the desk and the manila folder peeping out from its shadowed depths.
"Isn't that the report on that cattle mutilation case that we have to give to Skinner?"
Mulder nodded slowly in a slightly puzzled fashion. "Yeah...but that report's not due
until tomorrow."
Before he had even finished speaking, Scully was on her feet, folder in hand and
halfway to the door. "Oh well, you know. No time like the present." With that,
she quickly exited from the office - leaving a confused and bewildered Mulder in her wake.
For what seemed like the fiftieth time, Scully read the same line on the file
she was reading. She stole another quick look at Mulder, who was rifling
through a filing cabinet. Enough was enough. She was behaving in a childish,
irrational fashion. So Mulder sent two bunches of roses to someone every month.
Big deal.
And she _definitely_ wasn't jealous.
Please Lord, don't let it be Diana Fowley.
This was getting ridiculous. "Mulder..."
"Hmmm?" he turned around to look at her the light reflecting off his wire-rimmed glasses.
"A woman called before. She was from some florist, she said that they were out of white
roses this month and wanted to know what you wanted to send instead. I wrote the number
down, but I think we may have thrown it away when we were cleaning up the coffee."
She was relieved that she had managed to keep a normal tone - she didn't sound
at all like a jealous fish-wife. Which was logical of course - because she _wasn't_
jealous.
Even from where she was sitting, she could see Mulder looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"Uh, that's okay. I remember the number. Thanks." And he proceeded to bury himself
in filing once more.
That was it. No explanation. "No problem," she said in tones of steel, and reapplied herself
vehemently to reading the file.
And the rest of the afternoon passed in silence as taut as a bowstring.
****************************************************************************
Her bedclothes already in irretrievable disarray, Scully turned over for what
must have been the one thousandth time that night, grunting in exasperation.
She looked at her clock, which smugly informed her that precisely 2 minutes
had gone by since she had last looked at it. 2.08am. She rolled on her back
and covered her face with a pillow, but her newly chosen mantra seemed to marquee
across the inside of her eyelids - matching the way the phrase drove like a
steam-train around the inside of her skull.
IMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUS
In annoyance, she flung her pillow at the wall. Great. Now she had to get up and get it.
In defeat, she switched on the lamp. Hot milk. Maybe that would work.
Silently, she padded out to the kitchen, microwaved some milk and collapsed on the couch
and sipped it meditatively.
IMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUS
She slammed down the glass and flipped on the television set and just as quickly flipped
it off. Ugh, infomercials. She didn't need distraction _that_ badly.
IMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUSIMNOTJEALOUS
She threw a cushion across the room and then laughed ruefully at her second
childish outburst for that evening. The laughter died away to a sigh.
Who was she kidding.
Of _course_ she was jealous.
How annoying.
Mulder was sending roses to somebody. He'd never sent roses to _her_.
Mulder thought enough of someone to send them two bunches of roses every month,
for heaven only knew how long, and had kept that from her.
And that hurt. It hurt a _lot_.
Scully thought she knew him better than anybody, but she hadn't even known this
little thing. Whoever this...this _person_ was, she had stained that unique bond
that she had with Mulder.
Trust.
Loyalty.
Respect.
Friendship.
Love.
Well, maybe that bond didn't mean as much to Mulder as it did to her. Oh sure,
he trusted her, was loyal, respected her, liked her, yadda yadda yadda. But love?
Sure, they had never spoken of their feelings. She hadn't thought they
needed to - the knowledge was there, unspoken. Maybe she only felt that
because that's what she wanted to believe.
A thousand tender touches, glances, moments; the fleeting possibility of a kiss
in a hallway, declarations made in the heat of the moment, a brief drug
induced 'I love you'. What did they all mean, anyway? Sure, she had
stored them away, relishing the memories' warmth on indulgent occasion.
But...maybe she had misunderstood. Taken things mean lightly or flippantly to heart.
Her cheeks burned at the possibility, and she frantically sifted through every image,
trying to reassure herself that she had not been imagining things. She lingered over that
moment in the hallway and beyond the memory of the words spoken she remembered the look
in Mulder's eyes as he leaned down to kiss her...
A moment of joyous, complete certainty washed over her. Of course Mulder loved her.
But those roses...
Doubt assailed her, gnawing viciously at her stomach, and she resorted to something
she hadn't done since adolescence. Taking her immaculately manicured thumbnail
between her teeth, she chewed on it viciously.
*****************************************************************************
No sleep and a chronic case of jealousy did not make for a cheerful Scully.
What's worse, she felt like a cartoon character as she stood outside of
Shop and Smell the Roses, the florist where Mulder ordered those damned
white roses from. As she stood outside, debating whether or not she should go in,
she felt like she had a little AngelScully on one shoulder
and a little DevilScully on the other.
Or maybe it was just RationalScully and JealousScully.
At any rate, it felt like a running dialogue was running through her head.
RationalScully: "This is a betrayal of Mulder's trust. If he wanted you to know
who he sent the roses to, he'd have told you."
JealousScully: "'Betrayal of Trust!' What do you call his keeping this from you?"
RationalScully: "What are you going to do once you find out? Check out the competition?
Tell her to stay away from your man?"
JealousScully: "At least then you'll _know_."
Scully shook her head. For once, she was going to be irrational. Squaring her shoulders,
she walked into the shop.
The refreshing sweetness that was every florist's aroma helped to settle
Scully's somewhat frayed nerves. She pretended to check out the merchandise
as she surreptitiously eyed the girl at the counter. She didn't want the chance
of running into the woman she had spoken to...she might remember her name.
However, the nervous ineptitude and youth of the girl behind the counter
made Scully fairly sure that this was the hapless 'new girl'.
Scully waited until the present customer concluded his business and then assumed
her G-Woman persona. "Excuse me, ma'am." The girl looked cowed by this sudden
appearance of Authority. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the
Federal Bureau of Investigation." Scully flipped open her ID,
and the girl's eyes widened even more. "I need to have a look at the recipient
address of some flowers that are ordered from here on a monthly basis."
The girl nodded dumbly. "Do...do you have the uh, the name of the sender?"
she stammered nervously. Scully took a deep breath.
"Fox Mulder."
******************************************************************************
Scully tapped her ID nervously against the palm of one hand and mentally cursed her
choice of employee. The girl was taking years to find the customer record that
Scully needed, and every second Scully's guilt increased at an exponential rate.
However, she could hardly back out now.
"Here it is..." the girl returned at last. "I remember this guy now...he was in here
just yesterday. He usually orders white roses, but because...uh...that is
for some reason we ran out, so he came in to select some others. I remember
he took one bunch and said he was going to deliver them personally." The girl sighed.
"He was really cute. He wasn't...he wasn't like a _murdererer_ or something?"
Scully held out her hand for the customer record. "No, no. Nothing like that.
May I have that please?" The girl obligingly handed the paper over.
Scully quickly scanned the contents.
"Oh my God," she whispered, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks.
She felt like a 1000-ton anvil had just dropped out of the sky
and crushed her into a sorry guilt-ridden pulp.
She felt smaller than the lowest amoeba ever to slither its way out of the primoridal ooze.
And she understood.
*****************************************************************************
It had been raining, and the sodden smell of earth and grass permeated the air.
Scully slammed her car door. She could already see his familiar lanky form in the distance,
and for the thousandth time since leaving the florist she berated herself.
How could she have doubted him?
She almost ran to where he stood, but slowed as she neared him, not wanting to burst
upon him too unexpectedly. She saw the roses, a dozen of them, white but
for the palest blush of pink in the heart of the flower. Her eyes involuntarily
travelled up beyond the roses.
MELISSA SCULLY
BELOVED DAUGHTER SISTER AND FRIEND
Scully's eyes dropped away from the headstone inscription, again overcome with shame.
She felt Mulder's gaze fall upon her and then return to the headstone.
Without looking at her, he began to speak.
"I know you've told me a thousand times at least, that what happened was not
my fault Scully...and you could tell me a thousand more and I'd still feel
that I was at least in some part to blame. made a promise to myself that I would
make sure that nothing like that would ever happen again - that you would never be made
to hurt in that way again because of me. Of course, I failed." He looked at his feet,
his tone bitter. "And now you have two graves because of me."
"Emily," whispered Scully, a tear tracing a now familiar path down her cheek.
Mulder looked at her, his eyes dark with sorrow, and nodded.
"I guess the roses are just a way of reminding myself of that promise every month."
Scully was speechless - she had doubted Mulder in what turned out to be one of the greatest
proofs of the strength of his feelings for her. But she _needed_ to hear it.
"Why, Mulder?"
"You know why, Scully."
She nodded, tears again slipping unbidden down her cheeks. "I just...I just need
to hear it."
Mulder looked at her intensely and with heartbreaking sincerity.
"Because...because I love you, Scully."
Scully let out a sob and wordlessly wrapped her arms around him and let the feel
of his arms and the steady beat of his heart wash over her - strengthen her - before
she pulled away slightly and looked up at him. His dark eyes, unwavering shone too
with unshed tears. Without another word, he placed both hands gently on either side
of her head and kissed her.
Tenderly.
Lingeringly.
Lovingly.
When they broke apart, Scully thought the love in his eyes would make her shatter
into a thousand and one pieces each time she remembered what she had thought.
She pulled away slightly. "Mulder...I have a confession to make."
He smiled tenderly at her and gently brushed away a recalcitrent tear from her cheek.
"Don't worry, Scully, I already know it was you who took my copy of the alien
autopsy video."
Scully tried to laugh, but it came out more as a sob. His expression changed to concern.
"What is it, Scully? You know you can tell me anything."
Time to bite the bullet. She looked straight into his eyes. "Mulder...when I found out
that you were sending roses to somebody, I was...well, I was jealous."
His lips quirked in a quick half-smile and he opened his mouth to speak,
but Scully shushed him with her fingers on his lips. "No, let me finish.
It seemed like...well, like you didn't want to tell me who the flowers were for.
So I...I used my FBI priveleges to find out. God, Mulder...I feel like such an idiot."
Mulder, to her relief, looked only amused. "What...did you think they were for
'another woman'?" he asked in a stage whisper and when Scully didn't respond,
his smile grew even wider. "My God, Scully, I don't just go running off to Antarctica
for just anybody, you know." He cupped the delicate curve of her jawline in his hands
and tilted her blue gaze up to meet his. "No...I would only do that for the woman..."
he placed a delicate kiss next to her ear and whispered the rest of his sentence
into her ear. "...who has my alien autopsy video. I want that back by the way."
He leaned out, grinning, to guage her reaction. She blinked, wondering if had
just said what she thought he had. Then slowly, a smile dawned on her face,
matching Mulder's.
"Mulder..."
"Yes, Scully."
"You are so lucky that I love you too much to shoot you."
********************************************************************************
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Bleary-eyed, Scully padded over to her apartment door. On opening it, she was greeted
with the sight of at least two dozen red-roses.
"Are you Dana Scully?" the teenage delivery boy squinted at her suspiciously, as if
daring her to say that she wasn't.
"Yeah, that's me."
"Sign here, please." Scully did so. "Here you go. Have a nice day."
Scully set the roses down on the table and hunted out the card - not that she
didn't know who they were from.
"Scully -
I made a new promise - never to let _you_ forget how much to you mean to me.
Love - FWM"
Scully wiped away the tears that immediately sprang into action, and inhaled
the velvet aroma of the roses,
then continued reading.
"PS - You can keep the video. Is this true love or what?"
And she smiled.
THE END
I hope you liked it! - Kit.
The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means. - Oscar Wilde
Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is - it is her shadow.
- Gamaliel Bailey
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