Apparitions
by Calesta B.
Post Episode Vignette

Rating: PG-17

Spoilers: One Son and up to end of Season 6 US

Summary: After the events of Two Fathers/One Son Scully takes off to 
California to clear her mind & Mulder follows her. 

Classification: MSR -- R for a little bit of language I guess,

Disclaimer:  They aren't mine and I'm not making any money. The canadian 
dollar is so low they can't sue me for anything of any value anyway. 
Song lyrics from the Matthew Good Band are used without permission and 
with no intention of hurting them.

Feedback:  Please to calesta@hotmail.com. I never set out to do Scully 
POV's, her voice somehow creeps into my head mid-story and then I have 
to do the whole bloody thing over again.

*******************************************************************
say hello
remain close to me
no goodbye suicide mystery
the rat in your brain turns the wheel
connected to your guts
and all your faults are in me
what would you say if we lived on tv
besides all the they things they told you to
we're stuck inside our own machine

Apparitions 
Matthew Good Band
****************************************************************

I knew he would come.  I wasn't surprised.  I didn't make myself 
difficult to trace.  I wasn't trying to.  I just wanted some space to 
clear my head, to make some decisions.  I fled the east coast for the 
west, intending to land in San Diego and to stay there for a few days. I 
had thought it would be a good place to clear my head.  Once I got there 
I realized I was far too close to Bill, Tara and Matthew.  I was not in 
the mood for a visit with them.  I turned my convertible north, taking 
the coastal highway.  My trusty laptop hooked me in to 
vacationrentals.com and this haven.  

I was surprised at why he came.  I wasn't prepared for that.  I had 
envisioned him spending the weekend with his long lost true love.  My 
delusions about my place in the scheme of things had been shattered and 
I was just trying to put the pieces back together.  I knew I had to face 
the decision whether or not to join the menage a trois that was sure to 
become the next chapter in Xfiles history.  

I was thinking that the sight of her nameplate above mine on that 
basement door would send me postal.  Not a good start.  I didn't think 
the OPR would buy an excuse of accidentally discharging an entire round 
from my Sig into a fellow agent's face.

I was beginning to think that I was better off preventing that and 
leaving the xfiles for good.  Third wheel is not a position I'm willing 
to consider.  I was talking myself into the conclusion that I would 
survive without the xfiles, without him.  People had their hearts broken 
every day.  It may take me a few years, but I would get over it.  I 
wasn't kidding myself, I was very much in love with him, but I would get 
over him.  I wouldn't even have the guys send me updates, although I had 
the distinct feeling that Frohike wouldn't let me out of his life as 
easily as Mulder would these days.

I was walking back to my rented house from the market, fresh ingredients 
for my dinner in hand.  I laughed out loud at the image of Frohike 
chasing me down in a hallway somewhere, much as Mulder did last summer, 
begging me to stay.  Only with my stupid luck these days there would be 
no alien bee to help me out of that one.  A couple of old ladies looked 
at me as if I were quite insane for giggling out loud in the middle of a 
busy street in Pacific Grove.

The house I'd rented for the week was two blocks up from the ocean, I 
could hear the waves from my bedroom. The cottage was nestled among 
large pine and oak trees, a small grey house with old glass windows.  
What I loved most was the bedroom.  It was a one story house except for 
the bedroom.  It stuck out the top of the house, framed by windows on 
all sides.  I went to bed feeling as if I were sleeping in a tree house.  
The staircase to my little retreat was surrounded by a little kitchen, 
the bathroom and a living room with a fireplace.  

The fog was beginning to come in as I turned the corner and saw him 
sitting on my front step, his rental car parked out on the street.  It 
occurs to me how much like ghosts we are, haunting each other's lives.  
Bound by some curse that neither of us can break, always drawn to the 
other, unable to let go for very long.

I mustered up as much of a smile as I could as I walked up to him. It 
wasn't much, I was imagining that he had Diana stashed away at some 
romantic little bed and breakfast nearby.

'What is it this time, Mulder?  Cattle or human exsanguinations?  Death 
by lightening?  Mutant sewer monsters?  Liver eating 100 year old men?  
Did you bring me the body or do you want me to fly away somewhere to do 
the autopsy?  I know you're happy to be back on the Xfiles, but you 
couldn't wait four more days?'  I was trying to be light, to my dismay I 
found my voice sounding hard and brittle.

He was shaking his head at me.  'No autopsies, Scully.  Not today.  
That's not why I'm here.'

Christ, this was worse than I'd imagined.  He didn't come to ask me to 
do their scut work, he came to tell me that they didn't need me at all.

'Nice place you have here.  You don't seem surprised to see me, Scully,' 
he stood up and took the grocery bags from my hands.  

'I was kind of waiting for your phone call, Mulder' I admitted. He 
didn't move too far from the doorframe, forcing me to brush up against 
him as I opened the door with my key.

'I was going to call, a million times, but I didn't want to bother you.'

I laughed at that one, out loud.  I think I startled him.  'So you flew 
all the way to California to show up in person instead?'  I was shaking 
my head as I took the bags from him and placed them on the green tile 
counter.  'There's some twisted Mulder logic for you.'

'I had to make sure you were okay, that I was okay, that we were okay,' 
the words are coming out of his mouth and I don't know how to take them 
just as it looks like he doesn't know how to stop them.

'I am okay, Mulder.  WE,'  I have to stop here to chuckle mirthlessly. 
'I don't even know if there is a we, and if there was, Mulder, we are 
definitely not okay.  You - I can't speak for.  Not anymore.'  No sense 
in hedging, in hiding my feelings.  If this is to be our last go round, 
I want to have it out.  I'm going to get closure out of this visit if it 
kills us both.  Good thing my weapon is upstairs at the bottom of my 
suitcase.

He pulls a typical Mulder on me and doesn't say anything.  So much for 
the final round.  He starts unpacking the groceries on the counter. 'Is 
there enough here for two?'

I consider saying no, but I'm starting to think that won't get rid of 
him.  I realize he didn't bring her with him.  That he actually has 
nowhere else to go.  This is my Mulder, who despite everything that 
happened last week, came because he needs me.

'Sure.  If you like shrimp.'  I know he does. 'White wine's okay?'  

He nods and goes to check out the living room, I think maybe he's 
composing himself.  He returns after a moment and asks how I found the 
house.  I tell him my story of driving up the coast.  He drove down from 
San Francisco.  We compare highway notes.  As he's opening the wine he 
wants to know why I'm always renting convertibles when I go on holidays. 

For a little while things are okay.  We are talking like we always do, 
about everything and nothing.  Our conversations when we're on the road 
range from discussing current affairs to why I think Steel Magnolias is 
the best 'chick movie' of all time to arguing over which version of Star 
Trek is better to my lectures about biology and more recently 
epidemiology.  

We didn't talk very much until Eddie Van Blundht.  But after that, it 
was like a dam had opened up.  The countless hours waiting in airports, 
driving down rural roads were usually filled with conversation. 

Tonight feels the same as if we were sitting across a table at some 
airport bar, waiting for the next flight to Kansas or wherever the hell 
it was we were going that day.  It feels good.  Both of us play that 
denial game so well.  We could bury ourselves in talk of California 
highways for hours, we couldn't face the talking that we had to do, that 
we would do, before either of us left this house.

After dinner Mulder offers to do the dishes as I resist the urge to 
playfully feel his forehead for a fever at such an offer.  Touching him, 
I think, was not a good idea at this stage.

I pour another glass of wine, so full I think the liquid will spill over 
the rim.  I need it.  I get halfway to the living room and decide to go 
back for the rest of the bottle.  Mulder had it.  Always of the same 
mind when it came to certain things we two.  I considered running out 
for another bottle, that would be our third.  Then reconsidered, while I 
might want to take the edge off, I did want to be sober.  

I build the fire and set down in the oversized armchair near the mantle. 
Leaving the couch for Mulder.  I didn't sit there as I didn't want to 
take the chance of having him too close to me.  His physical proximity 
would likely cloud my judgement more than the wine.

He comes in moments later, bringing his wine glass that was as full as 
my own.

'So,'  I say more to myself than to him.

No reply.

'Want to tell me what you're really doing here?'  Damn him for coming 
all of this way and then making me start this.

'I told you.  I was worried about you.  I was worried about us.'

I take a deep breath.  He's not going to say it.  I know that because I 
know him so well.  'So.  You know, Mulder, if we start this conversation 
now, its going to lead us to places we've denied and hid from for the 
last six years.  We start this now and there is no going back.'  My 
voice is firm but shaking.  He is nodding his head in agreement.

He blows out his breath in a little puff of air and takes a sip of wine.  
'Its time, Scully.  Its past time.'  He laughs a sad little laugh and 
shakes his head.  'Where the hell do we start?'

'You tell me.  You came after me.'

'Again.  You know, you bitch at me because I'm always ditching you, yet 
you seem to be the one who leaves when the going gets tough.'

The honesty of his statement hurts and I try not to let it get to me. 
We're just starting out and my guess is this isn't the most painful 
thing I'll hear from him this evening.

I nod my head.  He knows me well enough to know I'm acknowledging he's 
right.  But not entirely.

'Tough?  Mulder, what happened last week goes beyond tough.  I thought 
reassignment to Salt Lake was the end of the world.  What the hell did I 
know?  The end of the world is when you decide you don't trust me and my 
motives.  When you choose to save Diana over me -'

'We were coming to get you, Scully.'  His voice is as quiet as mine 
seems shrill.

'Fuck you.  I didn't want to be gotten.  Not if it means tagging along 
behind you and your girlfriend.  I don't know how much you think I can 
take, but I cannot watch the man I love and trust throwing everything 
away for someone who may or may not be working at cross purposes.  Not 
after what I've been through in the last six years.'  I pause.  His 
turn.  I've said it, its out there.  'It is personal Mulder.  Its not 
jealousy.  Its watching the person you love destroy themselves from the 
inside out.  I will not stick around to watch that.

'She's not - she's - the thing about Diana,' Mulder at a loss for words, 
someone call the XFiles.

'What,' my voice is cold steel at this point.  'What is the thing about 
Diana?  That would make you betray what you've been working for forever?  
That would make you think that joining forces with the consortium was 
the right answer.  Make me understand.  Let me know what it is, so that 
this can stop hurting so much.'

'She's not my girlfriend,' he says simply.  'She's my ex-wife.'  I knew 
this of course, no big revelation there, except for the fact that I'm 
finally hearing it from his lips and not Byers'.  'I don't know how I'm 
not supposed to trust the one woman I married.  She seems to care about 
the XFiles she -'

I have changed my mind, I don't want to know.  I interrupt to tell him 
just that.  'I changed my mind, I don't want to know. I don't want to 
know about her.  All I want to know is what's going to happen next.'

He looks surprised.  'You come back to DC and we start the XFiles 
again.'

I'm shaking my head.  'I don't care if this does sound like personal 
jealousy getting in the way of my professionalism, but I'm not going to 
work with the two of you.  I can't do it. I have some pride, Mulder. I 
think I've discovered I have the ability to have a life outside of this.  
I have some pride.' I know I've just repeated myself.  My thoughts are 
starting to scatter.

'What are you talking about, Scully?  Is this about you wanting a normal 
life?'  

I have never ever wanted to kill him so much as I do in that moment.  
Its like a typical man thing to say, like something I'd read in Cosmo or 
something.

I have to take five deep breaths before I can talk without screaming 
again. 'This has nothing to do with a normal life.  Did you not listen 
to a word I just said?  How can I be more clear? I - will - not - work - 
with - you - and - her - on - the X-Files.'

He bows his head.  'Scully, I'm starting to think you were right.  I 
went to see the guys again.  I went over the data you uncovered.  It is 
a little suspicious.'  I peek at his face to find out how much its 
costing him to admit this.  He looks worried.  'The biggest thing for me 
is why she wasn't there.  At the hangar.  Even if she was late, and 
showed up after the carnage, why wasn't she there?  The autopsy results 
have come in.  All of the bodies identified.  CGB Spender wasn't there, 
either.

'I told you that I had talked to him the night of the massacre.  I 
didn't tell you where I had talked to him.  I was at Diana's.  Looking 
for proof that you were right,'  I blow out the breath I've been 
holding.  There was something I didn't know.  After the way he mocked me 
at the Gunmen's hideout I can't believe he gave my ideas any credence.

He continues, 'Cancerman told me he was looking for Agent Spender, the 
son who'd betrayed him.  It seemed plausible at the time, but looking 
back . . . .'  Mulder takes a huge gulp of wine and stands up to look 
out the window at the fog.

'I'm just starting to think you're right - not that she's working 
against me, just that maybe I shouldn't be so quick to trust,'  he 
laughs, we both seem to have this sad little laugh that isn't happy, it 
just says how fucking ironic is this situation and can it get any worse?  

'She's not going to be working on the XFiles again.  Not with us.  Its 
ours.'  He laughs again.  'Who would have ever believed that you would 
be throwing my words in my face.  That you would be the one who was so 
changed by the events of the past six years, but so un-altered at the 
same time.  You never waver, you always believe, if the situation calls 
for it, if you get your proof.  

'I on the other hand, am like a big fucking waffle.  Show me the first 
sign of evidence and I'm off on some ungodly tangent.  Aliens took my 
sister, no it was some psychopathic child killer, no the government did 
it, no had to be aliens because they took you to Antarctica, no maybe 
the aliens aren't the enemy after all.  Do you remember that night we 
chased the truck across the country, five years ago?  The one I was sure 
was carrying an E.B.E?  And I told you that I want so badly to believe 
that I accept the obvious conclusions and walk away.  I haven't changed.  
Not one fucking little bit. Its my biggest weakness.'

He falls silent after that tirade and I'm thinking about what he said 
when he showed up here - wanting to make sure that I'm okay, and that he 
is.   The past week has taken more of a toll on Mulder than I thought.  
He always seems to roll with it, far more easily than I can. Perhaps I 
was wrong.

'I meant what I said last summer Scully.  I can't, I won't do this 
without you.  And although the rules of the game and the players have 
changed significantly since then, its not over.  And I will not let them 
win,'  his voice is steel and he does not look at me.

'I don't know what to say Mulder.  I'm sorry that this has been such a 
crisis of faith for you. But I don't know how you can expect me to be 
there everytime you decide that the tangent you've been on is wrong - to 
just forget about the hurt you've caused me while you've been on it.'

'You said you love me.'  Leave it to Mulder to circle back and pick up 
conversation threads from twenty minutes ago.  I don't answer him.  What 
can I say?  Hello?  You idiot, you've been missing or ignoring clues for 
three years now.  Not that I haven't done the same to him, I think, the 
scene at the hospital in Florida firmly etched in my mind.  

'I know that,' he says simply, finally turning around to face me.  He 
crosses the room to the fireplace, sets his glass down and throws 
another log on the embers.  This brings him close to where I'm sitting 
and rather than stand up again, he takes two steps on his knees so that 
he's right in front of me, resting his arms on my legs.   I catch fire 
faster than the wood in the fireplace.

'I love you too, Scully.  It goes so far beyond that I don't feel the 
words do you justice.  I've always thought that the status quo was good, 
though.  I've never wanted to play around with that, not at the time 
anyway.'  His words are sinking in, this declaration is what I've been 
wanting and fearing.  'I thought we had it good, we spend more time 
together than any other people on earth. We had the XFiles.  I didn't 
want that to change.'

His face is even closer to mine now.  'Now, the future is here, and all 
bets are off.'  The words echo in my head just as they did in Kersh's 
office.

'Mulder.  I meant what I said before.  If we start this now there is no 
going back,'  His hands have found their way up to my face, he cradles 
my cheeks with his palms and I know where this is going and I know how 
much I want it.  I was kidding myself when I said I could live without 
him.  I could no sooner give up breathing.

'There was no going back six years ago,  it just took me sometime to 
figure that out.  Scully, my Scully.  I don't deserve you in my life. 
And you know that don't you, that's why you keep running away.'

His mouth is millimeters from mine and its all I can do not to close the 
distance.  I'm breathing in his breath as I answer him.  'I run away 
because it hurts so goddamn much.  You hurt me so much.'  He flinches a 
bit, but doesn't pull away.  'But I don't believe for a minute that you 
don't deserve me.  We belong together Mulder, everytime you try to deny 
that it hurts.  But I believe in extreme possibilities.  And I believe 
that one day you'll know that.'

I've made him smile, and his mouth takes mine in a gentle kiss.  I feel 
his hands move around to the back of my neck, searching under my collar.  
Looking for bees, Mulder?  I ask with my mind, I can feel his smile 
against my lips.  I think maybe to answer Mulder's original question, 
that yes, in spite of everything, we are okay.

I want to take him upstairs to my bedroom, but I don't think we'll make 
it that far.  I thought, when I saw him on the step that six years of 
pent up tension was going to explode on us and destroy us. I didn't 
expect it to lead here.

I'm not stupid.  This isn't going to solve all of our problems.  Mulder 
will still run off at the slightest hint of conspiracy or evidence.  He 
will hurt me again.  

But we are so much stronger when we're together.  I have to believe, I 
DO believe that it will make a difference.