Come To Me
Author: Denise dschoppe@hotmail.com
10/06/99
Rating: G
MSR
Spoilers: Who needs spoilers?
Summary: Scully is contacted by someone from her past
Authors Notes: Ever notice how most of my stories are spawned from hearing a
song? This one is no different. The idea came from the song "Unsigned
Letter" by Garth Brooks/Chris Gaines. I took the songs plot and tweaked it
to my liking. Hope you like it too.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just borrowed them to entertain myself in Philosophy
today. They belong to the big wigs out there in California.
< - - - - - - - >
It came on Wednesday, a plain white envelope with her named typed clearly
and simply in the center.
Dr. Dana Katherine Scully
The envelope had been hand delivered to the bureau and had then made its
trip through the halls on its way to her. It changed hands often, and its
last carrier had been her partner. He entered their office and set it on top
of the computer monitor at which she'd been glaring, trying to complete a
report.
"What's this?" she asked, taking the envelope. She glanced at Mulder
curiously. He shrugged as he sat down behind his desk.
"How should I know? It was given to me upstairs. I didn't think you'd
appreciate me opening it for you."
"You didn't get one?"
"Should I have?"
"I-I don't know. I just thought --"
"Why don't you quit speculating and just open it?"
She glared at him for a second but she knew he was right. She turned her
attention to the envelope and opened it. She slid the contents out and began
to inspect it. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what it was -- a
one-way, first-class ticket to Boston and a note. The note was written with
a black marker and had only three words on it: "Come to me."
"Scully? What is it?" Mulder got up and came over to her, crouching down to
look up at her. "You're white as a sheet."
She looked at Mulder, but couldn't focus on him. The flood of memories that
the note had brought clouded her vision. She tried to find her voice, but
found it incapacitated as well. Mulder gently took the note and ticket out
of her hands. He looked them over, but they meant nothing to him, their
affect of Scully, however, did.
"Talk to me, Scully." He took her hands in his and turned her chair so he
could see her face better. "Do you know who this is from?"
She nodded slowly, still mute.
"Who?"
She looked in his eyes finally. "John Fendel"
"You're sure?"
"I'd know that handwriting anywhere."
Mulder nodded and stood up. He stepped back from her and sat on the edge of
his desk facing her. He was curious, but didn't want to push her when she
was so clearly upset. She'd always wanted her space when she was upset in
this manner -- he assumed it would be no different this time.
She sat staring again at the note he'd laid on the table beside the
computer. It was a bold note, staking a claim to her. They sat in silence
for was felt like hours, though it was only minutes. Scully cleared her
throat. She owed Mulder an explanation for how she was acting.
"I - uh . . . I guess you could call him my fiancee in a way."
Mulder didn't move. He couldn't. He tried to make his face appear open, yet
impassive with this information. He wasn't sure if he'd succeeded or not.
She turned to look at him. Her voice was stronger now.
"We dated in college, everyone said we'd be married one day. Then out of
nowhere he decided to enlist. Before I knew it he was shipped off to
Germany, or something like that. I'm not sure about that anymore. I do know
that the day he left he promised that when he returned he'd marry me."
She stopped talking and looked at the note. She took a deep breath.
"And I promised I'd be waiting."
The silence was heavy in the room. Mulder finally spoke.
"What are you going to do?"
She shook her head. "Think. I need time to think about everything."
He nodded. He leaned forward slightly. "Take your time, Scully. I'll cover
for you here if anyone asks."
She smiled slightly at him. "Thanks." She grabbed the note, the ticket and
her purse and left.
The rest of the day and all of the next were agonizingly slow for Mulder. He
paced, tossed pencils at the ceiling, drank too much coffee and read over
old case files -- specifically the ones in which he and Scully had worked
the best together on. He did anything to keep his mind off the fact that
Scully wasn't around, and to keep from calling her. He always realized when
she was away how much just her presence filled him with peace and security.
Scully spent the days reminiscing. She looked at old pictures, read old
letters, she even pulled out her old jacket from college. By Thursday
afternoon, though, she came to realize what she had known all along. The
past held nothing for her. Her present and her future were too entwined and
she wasn't going to let three words unravel it all. By the end of the day
she'd formulated a plan to ensure that nothing would ever mess up what she
already had.
Friday morning, Mulder was feeling uneasy, yet hopeful, when he arrived at
work. Surely Scully would be back and he couldn't wait to see her. His face
and heart fell when he found the office empty. With a sigh he walked to the
desk. A post-it note caught his eye. It was stuck on the top file and he
hadn't put it there. He moved around the desk to get a better look at it.
His face broke into a smile when he read the familiar handwriting he'd
missed the past day and a half.
It simply said, "Come to me."
And he did.
Fin. <<...>>