TITLE: That Strange Feeling (1/1)
AUTHOR:Brekke (elseheavens@hotmail.com)
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: all things
CATERGORY: MSR. Mulder Angst. Frohicke/Mulder Friendship.

ARCHIVE: Yes, you don't need to ask, but a note where would 
be very much appreciated.

SUMMARY: Mulder learns to deal with the change in his and 
Scully's relationship with a little help from a friend. 

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. I'll bet you're shocked.

NOTES: I just needed to do an LGM fic. And thus was this 
story born. I also wanted to deal with how Mulder, the king
of all things self-incriminating and master of guilt, would
deal with finally getting what he wants most in the world.

I figured the LGM were as good as people as any to convince 
him that he does actually deserve it. The two storylines
fitted together quite well as it turns out.

FEEDBACK: Um, let me think about it.....YES!!!

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Mulder awoke to a strange feeling.

He was alone in his bed, but there was evidence that he had 
not been so for very long. Her warmth and her smell lingered
on his skin, in his bed and hung thick in the air around him.

Scully's warmth. Scully's smell.

The strange feeling doubled in intensity as he thought about 
it. As he remembered the feel of her, the taste of her, the
soft sounds she made as he touched her...

Oh God, he'd made love to Scully. He'd touched her and kissed
her and...Oh God.

All of the sudden, Mulder felt light-headed. The strange 
feeling bubbling in his stomach increased once more. Every 
nerve felt alive. He felt like weeping, like laughing, like 
dancing. He let out a huge breath like a whoosh of air.

OhGod.ohgod..ohgodohgodohgod.

Mulder sat up quickly. With a quick glance around he realised 
that Scully must've already gone home to get changed and ready
for work. He felt a momentary pang of disappointment. He'd 
wanted to see her, to touch her again, to hold his mouth close
to her ear and murmur sweet placitudes...

He felt his heart thump out of beat as the jittery feeling in
his stomach rose again. 

Was he coming down with something?

Perhaps it was better that Scully wasn't here, Mulder thought
dizzily. He didn't want to infect her with whatever it was
that he had. He conviniently forgot that if the bug was 
contagious, Scully would've no doubt caught it last night.  

Groggily, Mulder rose out of bed and went though the motions
of getting ready for work. Luckily, he had one last suit
clean and ironed, so all he had to do was get showered and
dressed. He wasn't so lucky in the breakfast department,
but he figured he'd be able to get something near the 
office. 

It was only when he had driven halfway to work that he 
bothered to take a glance at his watch.

6:48 am. 

Security wouldn't even have the building open yet.

Mulder cursed under his breath. It was too late to drive back
home, really. He'd just have to kill a bit less than an hour
somewhere. He briefly considered driving over to Scully's
place, but surely she wouldn't want to see him again so soon.

Instead, he found himself driving a familar route and pulling
up outside a seedy apartment block he knew well. Without 
really thinking about it, he locked up his car and made his 
way to the apartment of the Lone Gunman.

It was only once he'd buzzed the doorbell did he realise that 
he had no idea what he was doing here and he hadn't thought
up an excuse to account for his prescence.

He quickly racked his brains for possible excuses - casefile,
UFO sighting, the latest Knick's game-

"Jeezus Mulder," Frohicke swore at him through the intercom,
breaking off his chain of thought. "If you're going to show
up this early in the morning, you could've at least brought
the delectable Agent Scully with you."

Funny you should mention that, a small, well-hidden part of 
Mulder's brain piped up.

Having been robbed of his chance to make up an excuse, Mulder
was forced to improvise. "I didn't want her craning her neck
to look down on your ugly mug," he snapped back. "Are you 
going to let me in or am I going to accidently drop your
name in the inbox of the Computer Terrorism Unit?"

He heard Frohicke grumbling something about self-serving 
Special Agents followed by the click of numerous locks before 
the door swung open to reveal a disgruntled audio-visuals
technician dressed in a heavy blue robe.

"This better be good," Melvin muttered, stepping back to 
admit Mulder and closing and locking the door behind him.

"Where's Byers and Langly?" Mulder asked, glancing around, 
mostly just to kill time before he had to come up with 
explanations.

"Asleep," Frohicke muttered in a grumpy tone belied by his 
facial expression. He took a seat and gestured for Mulder to 
do the same. "Where I would be, if it weren't for a certain 
FBI Agent."

Mulder nodded and took a seat, absently playing with a desk 
toy on the table beside him, remaining silent.

Frohicke sighed long-sufferingly. "Okay Mulder, what did you 
do to Scully this time?" he asked pointedly.

Mulder blushed furiously. "How did-" He cut himself off 
suddenly, realising that Frohicke was thinking of a different
kind of 'doing' entirely. "I don't know what you're talking 
about," he stated stiffly.

"Cut the crap, Mulder," Frohicke told him bluntly. "Unless 
you're hiding some big lead or a casefile in that jacket of 
yours, there is only one reason you could be here." He shook 
his head disapprovingly. "It's a mircale Scully has put up 
with you so long. Now tell me," he began again, enuciating 
each word as if talking to a child. "What did you do to 
Scully this time?"

Mulder refused to meet Frohicke's gaze, keeping his eyes 
glued to Newton's Balls. "Why does she, do you think?" Mulder
asked hesitantly. "Stay, I mean."

"Your bubbling personality?" Frohicke suggested flippantly.

Mulder snorted self-depreactingly in reply, his eyes still
locked on the desk toy.

Frohicke sighed. So it was one of *those* visits. "Mulder,"
he began. "You know as well as I do why she stays. Even 
though I don't exactly understand *how*, the woman *likes*
chasing your scrawny ass." He peered at Mulder curiously.
"Did you come all the way over here to ask me that?"

"Yeah," he replied blandly, his expression blank and his 
eyes still not meeting Frohicke's. "Thanks." He stood to 
make his way to the door. 

Frohicke didn't hesitate. "Sit down, Mulder," he ordered. 
Mulder opened his mouth to protest, probably with a smart
ass remark, but Frohicke cut him off. "I said *sit 
down*."

Mulder's jaw dropped momentarily, but he composed himself
quickly and sat back down. He sometimes forgot how 
commanding Frohicke could be when he wanted to be. The 
dwarf's comic exterior was decieving and Mulder had to
admit, he often let himself be decieved. It was easy to
dismiss Frohicke's peculiar brand of wisdom until one
was brought up short by it in moments like these.

"I'm going to ask you one more time dick-for-brains," he
told Mulder. "What brought all this on? Why the sudden
examination of your self-worth through Scully's eyes?
*What did you do to her*?"

Mulder met his gaze briefly before staring back down at 
the floor stubbornly, his jaw clenching. The short meeting
of gazes, however, had told Frohicke enough.

"You're kidding me?" he marvelled. "Only now?"

Mulder nodded, keeping his gaze cast downwards.

"Shit," Frohicke breathed in amazement. "We figured you 
guys had been doing the naked pretzel since Antarctica."

Mulder glared at him. "Yeah, well I'm a little slower
than you thought," he grated out.

"Hey, no offense intended," Frohicke added quickly, 
raising both hands in deference. He paused. "Frankly,
Mulder I'm drawing a blank here. What exactly is the
problem?"

Mulder opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
He didn't know what to say. What exactly *was* his problem?
He finally had Scully - the one thing he wanted most in
the world, the one thing that had given his life meaning
for all these years, and yet he was in agony.

He shrugged and glanced away.

Frohicke considered making a joke about taking the luscious
redhead off his hands, but took one glance at Mulder's 
tightend expression and changed his mind. This was not the 
time. 

Something occured to him. "Mulder, that question you asked 
when you came in?" Mulder didn't turn around. Frohicke 
frowned at him thoughtfully. "About why Scully stays with 
you. Do you really not know?"

Mulder stared stubbornly out the barred window, swallowing
heavily a few times. "The X-files is hers as well now," he
muttered.

"But why does she *stay*?" Frohicke pushed.

A muscle in Mulder's cheek twitched. "There's work we have-"

"Bullshit!" Frohicke swore, cutting him off. "Fuck Mulder,
I thought you were over this kind of crap already."

Mulder turned to him stony-faced. "Excuse me?" he snapped
angrily, straightening his posture intimidatingly.

Frohicke was unimpressed. "You know what crap I'm talking
about, Mulder," he snapped back just as angrily. "All this
'woe is me' garbage. When are you going to learn that the
weight of the world isn't on your shoulders?"

"Well it certainly isn't on yours," Mulder retorted. 
"You'd be lucky to manage a small deserted island."

Frohicke said nothing, but held his Mulder's gaze firmly.

A sigh somewhat akin to a whimper escaped Mulder and he
sunk back into his chair, his eyes once more examining the
floor. "I don't deserve her," Mulder muttered bitterly.

"I don't think that's up to you," Frohicke told him 
matter-of-factly.

Mulder snorted bitterly.

"Mulder," Frohicke began again, almost gently this time. 
"The reason Scully stays with you and doesn't go off with
the nearest nice Detective or Orthodontist and find herself
a nice white picket fence is because she loves you. She's 
*in love* with you." 

He shook his head at Mulder's obliviousness. "I can't believe
you don't know that."

Mulder closed his eyes as if in pain. When he opened them
again, his expression was agonised. "I fucked her life up,
Frohicke," he muttered brokenly. "Without me she'd be a 
success. She'd have her sister, a husband, children..."

"No Mulder," Frohicke corrected him firmly. "Without you,
Scully would be exactly what you are without her: Lost."

Mulder glanced up in surprise, thought lines creasing his
forehead.

"Mulder, I can pinpoint the exact moment my life begun to
have meaning for me," he told him. "It was the day I met 
Langly and Byers. Suddenly I wasn't alone anymore. I had
somebody else fighting for my cause with me."

Despite the obvious pain he was in, Mulder smirked 
reflexively and raised a suggestive eyebrow. 

Frohicke grinned back sardonically. "Okay, so they aren't
the love of my life and they didn't come in the form of 
a drop dead gorgeous redhead, and I don't even want to
*think* about what they look like naked," he faked a
shudder. "But trust me, Mulder, it's the same thing."

Frohicke shook his head in wonderment. "There were a 
million different things that could have kept the three
of us meeting that day, but none of them did." He
shrugged. "I have to believe that was for a reason."

He glanced up at Mulder, an uncharacteristically soft
expression on his face. "Haven't you ever wondered what
would've happend if it'd been another Diana instead of
Scully who walked into your office that day?"

Mulder smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "I've tried 
not to," he joked weakly.

Frohicke just nodded. "There is only one path, Mulder. 
We just have to watch the signs to get there."

Mulder jerked his head towards his smaller companion,
frowning at him.

"What?" Frohicke asked him. "Didn't pick me for the 
mystical type?"

Mulder shook his head. "No it's just...someone else 
said something similar to me recently."

Frohicke let a grin curl around his mouth. "Yeah,
Scully always did have a good head on her." 

Mulder's expression registered surprise. 

"I pay attention," Frohicke replied to his unanswered 
question. "Now get out of here, Scully'll be at work
by now and I need some more sleep."

Mulder nodded absently and made his way to the door.
Just as he reached it, he turned around. "Frohicke?"

"Yeah?"

Mulder squeezed the shorter man's shoulder. "Thanks."

Frohicke tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Hey, 
no problem," he replied amiably. Mulder turned back
to the door. 

"Oh and Mulder?" Frohicke called after him, just as
he reached the top of the stairs. "About that strange 
feeling in your stomach?"

Mulder glanced back, slightly baffled.

Frohicke grinned at his friend. "It's called Happiness."

Mulder smiled ever so breifly then disappeared down 
the stairwell. 

Frohicke watched him until he was out of view and then 
went back into the apartment to be greeted by a somber 
Byers and a smirking Langly.

"So they're finally doing it?" Langly asks him as Frohicke 
throws the bolts on the door behind him. 

"It's about time," Byers muses solemnly.

"I thought I told you two to stay out of the way until he 
was gone," Frohicke muttered disgruntedly.

"Hey, it's not our fault if you two talk too loud," Langly
replied defensively. The blonde haired man smirked. "Besides,
listening to your voice gives my life *meaning*." He threw
Frohicke's own words back at him. Even Byers hid a smile.

Frohicke scowled at him. "I'm warning you Woodstock-boy..." 
he threatend.

"Aw you won't hurt me," Langly asserted confidently. "Who
will you *fight for your cause* with, if you kill me?"

"I'm sure I could find someone with less of a smart mouth
on them," he growled out, readying himself to pounce.

"Now Frohicke," Byers quickly stood between them. "Langly's
just a little upset right now," he told him with a completely
straight face. "Since he found out he wasn't the love of your
life."

"Right, that's it!" Frohicke declared, launching himself after
both of them, knocking over a pile of disks in the process. He 
hid a smile as all three of them toppled to the ground.

Yup. That strange feeling in the stomach. Definitely Happiness.


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Extra Notes: 

I don't know what happiness feels like to everyone else, but 
for me it's always been 'that strange feeling in my stomach'. 
Which is probably why I'm so cheery when I have indigestion. 
Hmmm.

You can give me 'that strange feeling in my stomach' too, if 
you like - just send me some feedback.

That's all. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Take care,

Brekke (elseheavens@hotmail.com).