Title: Glimpses (Post-Requiem)
Author: Alelou
Feedback: Alelou123@aol.com (please don't forget the 123)
Spoilers: Requiem
Rating: PG-13 for language
Category: Post-Ep, MSR because it was an MSR ep!! (Happy Dance!!)
Keywords: Vignette, MSR, Post-Ep, Angst
Archive: Help yourself, just let me know
Disclaimer: Not mine, not any of them.
Summary: Various very quick points of view post Requiem
Notes: This is probably an excellent indication of my increasingly
short attention span. You can find more sustained works of fiction at
my web site, graciously maintained by Beaker at
http://members.xoom.com/Alelou123
xxxx
We hadn't quite figured out how to be a couple yet. Mulder was
still scaring the hell out of me when he said "you" instead of "we"
that night in Oregon. It terrified me that he was still struggling with
the concept.
Of course, I wasn't exactly full of quiet confidence myself. I'm the
one who crept off the morning after this baby was conceived while he
was still sleeping. That could have gotten very bad, if he hadn't called
immediately and demanded to know where I was. Where would we be
without cell phones?
I wonder if a cell phone would work from a UFO? As if he'd still
have it. Would operating a cell phone on a UFO mess up UFO traffic
control? No wonder the damned things seem to crash all the time.
Okay, that's just great. Now I not only have to worry about Mulder in
the custody of aliens, I also have to worry about their driving.
I'm really losing it now. Hormones. I'm going to blame everything
on hormones.
xxxx
She may think she still looks cold as ice, tough as nails, sexy as Mata
Hari, but I can tell she's full of shit. She gets that terrified glaze in her
eyes over practically nothing. Spender coughs, and she almost
wets her pants in terror. They say survivors of war and other traumas
aren't tougher than people who've never experienced it they're
actually more fragile. I didn't think that was true for everybody, for
the really tough ones (like her, for instance), but now I'm wondering.
She didn't question what I did to that bastard either -- she just wanted
to get out of there as quickly as possible. Now she's looking at me
like a deer caught in the headlights.
It makes me want to run her over.
xxxx
Last thing I expected from that visit to Scully was to see a smile on her
face. Becauuse Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully is pregnant, and
so pleased about it she can't hide her delight even with her partner
missing. I conclude that it must be his, though I wasn't quite brave
enough to ask. Plainly, at some point they must have gotten together.
I wonder when? Could have been practically any time, I suppose. I
wonder how long they've been so successfully discreet about it that I
didn't have a clue.
I suppose they might have thought they were doing me a favor.
I suppose they may simply not have trusted me.
xxxx
Moral outrage fits Alex about as well as his prison clothes did. He
tells himself he pushed Spender down the stairs as an act of justice,
but really he was just furious at being tossed into that Tunisian jail.
I imagine it's harder to defend yourself when you only have one hand
and he's such a pretty boy I wonder how he fared? He didn't look
too damaged in that shower. Still, I'm not letting him near me this
time. It's true what they say that you never appreciate your good
health until you've lost it. Spender could have told you that.
Not that I'll mourn the old man, who was plainly about to die anyway.
But I'd like to know what the hell Alex plans to do now. Spender still
had useful connections. For that matter, Spender may still be alive.
Alex was surprisingly inefficient there. Maybe deep down he knows
he's useless without having someone to parcel out information and
send him to and fro.
I confess I was a little too rattled to check the old devil's vitals
myself. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I'm really up to this game
anymore. But what the hell am I supposed to do instead? Get a job at
the mini mart?
xxxx
Mulder, you bastard! You were screwing the lovely Agent Scully and
you never even told us. (Of course I hacked into her medical records;
when have I ever not?) All those years of us commiserating and
putting up with those sad puppy dog eyes practically every other time
her name is mentioned, and you don't even tell us when you start to do
the wild thing. Not even a hint, you asshole. And then, of course, you
get yourself kidnapped, you bastard. You'd sure as hell better come
back and make an honest woman of her.
I wonder if she needs a Lamaze partner?
See, you'd better get your butt back here, Mulder, before Uncle
Melvin gets to do all the fun stuff.
xxxx
Frohike says that Scully is pregnant. Amazing. God knows the timing
could be better. In truth, though, the pregnancy may be a useful
distraction for her. A stabilizing factor. Maybe we won't have to
worry about her haring out the way he did after she disappeared. Part
of him clearly wanted to die then. Scully can't afford to feel that way
now. Maybe, like Penelope, she'll be willing to stay close to home
and raise her child.
I find myself almost involuntarily thinking of Suzanne Modeski -- not
that there's a hope in hell she'll ever have my child. But somehow I
don't think she'd stay at home reading baby name books either. Is it
cruel to wish that Scully might have an awful pregnancy? Be so sick
that she can't go looking for him?
Let us do it instead, Scully. You've got other things to do.
xxxx
In this business, you can't really afford to take anything personally. I
knew Alex Krycek would hate me after our latest disagreement, but
given that he's hated me all along I wasn't overly concerned. I should
have known he'd try to kill me the minute I saw his face, repulsed by
the recent changes in my health. He's one of those men who are truly
offended by weakness of any kind. This is a very useful characteristic
in a hired assassin -- no doubt helps him do his job -- but it's
somewhat inconvenient if you're desperately hoping the boy will
prove to be a useful lackey when you're incapable of taking care of
important business for yourself anymore.
I think his little partner in crime had better watch her back.
I think perhaps I'll throw myself on the tender mercies of Miss Scully.
She has some genuine interest in getting Mulder back, which is more
than can be said for Alex Krycek. And she's too kind to completely
rebuff a man in my condition.
xxxx
How sick is it that even as I was realizing how completely and utterly
fucked I was that I was so damned thrilled to see that spaceship?
Haven't I seen more than enough of them for one lifetime? Wasn't I
just hours before thinking that I would be more than happy to walk
away from all this shit?
Let invasion come if it must, I had decided. I'll just resign, or let them
fire me (might as well get some severance). Just give me a few
months, at least, to hang out with Scully on a sofa somewhere, watch
some bad movies, maybe get a dog. Drink coffee and read the paper.
Have lots and lots of sex. Relax into the whole idea that she loves me.
She's probably lightyears away now.
So beautiful Mr. Alien Bounty Hunter, who must have picked up his
English from Arnold Schwartzenegger movies, seems to have a
particular interest in screwing with my mind. He told me that they
were going to take you too, Scully, until they realized you were
pregnant. They didn't want to mess with that. I said, yeah, right, and
you also told me my sister was alive when she'd been dead for years.
Well, at least the version of her I know is still alive, he said. You'll
meet her. Uh huh. Though of course I couldn't help a little leap of
interest there, the bastard. Then they stripped me naked and stuffed
me in this tube. I think the cross is gone (sorry), but on the other hand
I can't really feel anything on my body so maybe it's still there.
Maybe they're doing things to me, maybe not, I don't know. All I get
to do is think.
So, are you pregnant, Scully?
"If she's pregnant I need to be with her, " I'd pleaded, at the end, as
they stuffed me into this contraption. It wasn't so much that I believed
it it was more a sort of panicked response to being stuffed into a
very, very small space by someone I really don't like very much.
"You have more important things to do now," he said.
Like hell.
xxxx
I'm lying on Mulder's sofa. There's an X on the window, not that I
think there's anyone left to see it. The UFO bobs up and down in his
aquarium in ironic counterpoint to our reality. I feel vaguely
nauseated looking at it, but then again I feel vaguely nauseated pretty
much all the time right now.
Mulder, Mulder, Mulder, you must come home.
There's something I want to tell you.
xxxx
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