|
Title: Scully's Choice Summary: Why in the world would Scully ever choose Doggett over Mulder? For one frozen moment, Mulder and Scully's lips met in a full-on romantic kiss. Mulder had been waiting years for this event. It was everything he had dreamed of, with him cradling his infant son as he kissed the love of his life. Existence didn't get any better. All too soon, though, Scully unglued her mouth from his and withdrew to arm's length. She was frowning. Directly at him. Mulder shifted William to a more comfortable position as Scully declared, "It's not going to work, Mulder." Mulder smoothed the baby's blanket and decided to play along with what was obviously a joke on Scully's part. "What are you talking about? What isn't going to work?" "This." She waved her hand at him like he was a pesky fly. "Us. Being together. It isn't right." Mulder laughed nervously. "Are you getting back at me for asking who you were when I woke up in the hospital? I thought we were past that." Very slowly, Scully enunciated, "It's over, Mulder. *We* are over. Things could never work between us." He shook his head, not sure what she was getting at. "What do you mean? We're finally on the right track. We even just kissed." Scully shrugged. "Sorry, Mulder, you didn't use enough tongue. That proves once and for all you're not serious about pursuing a romantic relationship with me. I'm cutting my losses and moving on to a man who can give me what I need." "What? Who?" Mulder gasped with the dawning belief that Scully might actually mean what she was saying. Scully eyed him as if he were a wad of Doublemint gum stuck to the toe of her newest Gucci pump. "Why, John Doggett, of course." Captive in the sharp talons of shock, Mulder clutched William a little too tightly. The baby shrieked and promptly, thoroughly spit up all over Mulder's black-clad chest. Grimacing in annoyance, Scully extricated her son, leaving Mulder to stand bereft and plastered in baby puke. What had gone wrong? Mulder rewound the memories, playing them over and over in an attempt to solve the mystery. The circumstances had seemed ideal. He and Scully had stood communicating with their eyes, their child perched between them. He had leaned in for the kiss, their lips had connected, it had been the culmination of years of pent-up longing and then it was over. Scully had rejected him like Patrick Ewing at the net. Calmly, coolly, definitively. Because he hadn't slipped her enough tongue. He'd been under the impression their love transcended such mundane matters. Clearly he had been mistaken, and the realization burned like acid in a gaping wound. It simply wasn't right. Mulder and Scully went together like peanut butter and jelly, spic and span, on and off. Doggett and Scully sounded like a baseball announcing team. After all they had endured together, why would Scully choose John Doggett over him? Mulder had to find out. Following the eye-opening encounter with Mulder, Scully took a day to regroup. She knew she'd have to act pretty quickly; Mulder didn't give up easily when he thought he wanted something, and right now he thought he wanted her. Her rejection had probably only provided him with more fuel. Although he had retreated to lick his wounds, she didn't doubt he would be back. She had to avoid him while figuring out the most effective way to approach Doggett. That meant no answering her cell phone, screening all calls to her apartment phone, and waiting no more than 24 hours to make her move. Eventually, Scully settled on a plan. She collected William and his supplies, locked up her apartment, and headed to her car. William squirmed and started to fuss as she settled him into his car seat. Scully patted his knee and soothed, "It's OK, William." He calmed down, but Scully tensed. "William," she repeated experimentally. Something about the name sounded wrong but she didn't have time to figure out exactly what. She would think about it after she had seen Doggett. An hour later, after a trip to the store, Scully stopped her car in Doggett's driveway behind his big truck. She'd never thought much about Doggett's truck before but she did now. It was sleek yet powerful as it glistened in the sunlight. She couldn't imagine Mulder owning a truck like that. She couldn't imagine Mulder owning a truck at all. She sat and thought for another moment. She had left Mulder and come to Doggett without a fallback plan. Things had better work out like she expected. She didn't think she had misinterpreted the look she had caught in Doggett's eyes on several occasions, the one that said if she snapped her fingers he'd come running. She was counting on her interpretation of that look being correct. Still deep in thought, Scully headed to the backseat to get William. For insurance, she would be holding the baby when Doggett opened his door. Surely he wouldn't turn away a woman who was carrying an infant. Scully made her way to the house, pressed the doorbell with a free finger, and readjusted William in her arms. After what felt like hours but must have been only a few seconds, the door opened and there stood Doggett. His forehead wrinkled as he registered who had come to visit. "Agent Scully, what are *you* doin' here? I mean, not that I mind, but you never just show up so it seems kinda weird." Tears welled up in Scully's eyes as the gravity of her actions truly struck her. "We've left Mulder," she announced in the steadiest voice she could manage. She bit her lip and got herself under control while Doggett awkwardly watched. "Look, I dunno what I can do," he began. "You can hold William," Scully announced. "He's much heavier than he looks." She thrust the baby toward him and waited for his reaction. To his credit, Doggett, while still looking incredibly puzzled, took hold of William and expertly balanced him against his shoulder. Scully smiled. She knew she had chosen well. Doggett shifted in the doorway. "Agent Scully..." "Dana," she corrected. That ought to be a pretty big clue about why she had come. If Doggett didn't catch on maybe he was as slow as Mulder. If so, it was best that she found out right away. She couldn't afford to waste another eight years. Doggett looked back at her in silence and Scully felt her heart sink. Could she have misjudged him so badly? Then, in the next moment, Doggett shoved the front door wide with his shoulder and stepped to the side. "I think you'd better come in...Dana." Mulder progressed from experiencing intense confusion to boiling with righteous indignation over Scully's unfair, seemingly arbitrary decision. He waited for her to call him with an apology, any sort of admission that she had recognized the folly of her actions, but his phone remained silent. Finally, he broke down and decided to approach her first. The only problem was, Scully wasn't answering her cell phone. She wasn't at her apartment or her mother's place. Reluctantly, Mulder swallowed his pride and dragged himself to the next most likely location: Doggett's house. There, much to his dismay, Scully's car with William's seat strapped in the back stood in the driveway. Mulder strode to the front door, rapped, waited, impatiently rapped again, waited again as Scully and Doggett took their sweet time answering. Then a scuffling sounded and the person behind the door uttered a merry peal of laughter. As the door swung open she turned her head toward him and Mulder saw that it was Scully, hair rumpled, eyes sparkling, lipstick smudged. She rarely laughed around *him*. She also rarely wore an outfit like today's white t-shirt and faded blue jeans with holes in the knees. Even as Mulder stared at her bra-less chest, Scully's mirthful expression faded. She crossed her arms and said flatly, "Mulder." He dragged his eyes upward and bulled ahead, "I need to talk to you." She glanced over her shoulder. "Can it wait? I'm watching NASCAR with John." Mulder gaped. "Since when do you watch NASCAR?" "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Mulder." "I'm beginning to realize that," he muttered. "Look, can I at least step inside? We have some things to talk about and I'd rather not do it on Doggett's front porch." "All right. Come in." Scully grudgingly inched back from the door and allowed Mulder room to enter. She then led him into the living room, where the television was indeed tuned to a car race. Picking up the remote control, Scully hit the mute button. Mulder glanced around. Doggett was nowhere to be seen. He settled down on the couch hoping Scully would choose the spot next to him, but instead she retreated halfway across the room to an armchair. "Where's Doggett?" he asked. "He's upstairs. He'll be down soon." "OK." Mulder took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Scully, what's going on here? This is all coming from out of the blue. Why did you dump me and run to Doggett? What's so great about him?" "What's so great about him?" Scully echoed. "Well, Mulder, you'll have a difficult time comprehending this but he's a mature adult who acts his age. He's also lived a normal life and he has his feet planted firmly on the ground. You'll notice *he* doesn't constantly obsess about a missing relative and make that issue his life's driving force." Mulder sputtered in indignation, "Hold on a minute. Maybe you've forgotten, but the man's son was abducted and murdered. That's not so different from the situation with Samantha and me." Scully laughed shortly. "You're not even close to the mark, Mulder. The *main* difference between you and John is that he's managed to put his tragedy behind him and move on with his life in a healthy way. He'll never forget Luke, but his memories don't fuel his existence. You, on the other hand, have allowed your fixation with Samantha to rule your life from adolescence through adulthood, and it's stunted your emotional growth beyond repair. I'm sorry if this sounds callous or cruel but sometimes the truth hurts. You are who you are. I should have moved on a long time ago but instead I kept giving you more and more time and more and more chances." "But... but..." Mulder's mouth flapped open and shut. Stunned by the attack coming from Scully of all people, he was at a loss for a good argument and thus changed the subject with a distracting question, namely the logical, "Can I see William?" Scully looked down at her clasped hands, for the first time refusing to meet his eyes. "Um, we have to talk about something. I was thinking maybe William isn't such a good name for the baby after all. Aren't there already enough Williams in our families? And as for naming the baby after your father? I must have been suffering from postpartum depression when I decided that because it makes absolutely no sense. Your father sold your sister out and participated in an evil shadow project that has devastated people's lives, including my own. Why anyone would willingly name a child after that monster you weren't even close to is beyond me." Having built up a full head of steam, Scully began speaking more emphatically. "I don't like the name William for my baby. It's horribly inappropriate. And make no mistake about it, this is *my* *baby*. I carried it for nine months and I suffered for it. Where were *you* after I was infected with a giant slug and was in danger of miscarrying? You were nowhere to be found. But John was right by my side. He cut that slug out of me with an unsterilized pocket knife. He was prepared to hotwire a bus for me. He always backed me up, every time." She paused for breath, and Mulder seized what might be his lone opportunity to leap in. "It wasn't my fault I wasn't there. I didn't ask to be abducted by aliens." "To some extent it *was* your fault," Scully countered. "Your insistence on chasing lights and UFOs got you into that mess. I don't see any signs you've changed or even want to. You'll just keep running around getting into trouble and expecting me to understand and bail you out. Well, I'm through being your enabler. It's time I do what's best for me and my son." Again, Mulder attempted to gather his thoughts for a rebuttal, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that Scully was watching the NASCAR race over his shoulder. Luckily, when he checked he saw that her eyes were fixed firmly on his face. "My quest is over," he said in his most sincere tone. "I know Samantha's dead. I'm ready to settle down, really." Scully arched an eyebrow. "What if you suddenly decide she's still alive? How do I know that won't happen? That you won't go pursuing leads in Atlantis or Timbuktu and abandon us?" Mulder huffed in frustration. "Scully, we've been together nearly eight years. We've learned to trust each other. This Doggett is practically a stranger." "Not after the way he backed me up during our cases. And another thing, you don't see *him* leaving me hanging for most of a decade. He knows what he wants and he goes out and gets it instead of waiting for it to fall into his lap whenever he thinks the time is right. There's a lot to be said for that attitude. Maybe you ought to try it sometime, when you grow up. *If* you grow up." On a roll, Scully plowed on, "Mulder, you're nearly 40 years old. You've never been married. It took me eight long years to pry one lousy kiss out of you unless you want to count that New Year's peck, which I don't. You're obsessed with your work. You're forever getting into disastrous situations. You are a walking recipe for dysfunction." Mulder's head, which had drooped lower and lower as Scully expounded, flew up when he remembered one important detail. "But I went all the way to Antarctica to save you. Doesn't that count for anything?" Scully smiled slightly. "Yes, it does, but that was years ago. What have you done for me lately? Except, of course, get yourself abducted and leave me to spend stressful months searching for you, only to find you dead, and then come back just when I had accepted the fact you were gone. None of that was easy on me, you know." Mulder winced. "So it's out with the old, in with the new, as easy as that?" He could hardly believe Scully was hurting him so badly. They remained mutely staring at each other until heavy footsteps marked Doggett's arrival. "Dana? What's goin' on?" He crossed to her chair and seated himself on the arm, placing his hand on Scully's shoulder in a possessive gesture. "Mulduh. What brings *you* by?" "I came to see Scully and my son," Mulder stated defiantly. "Speaking of William, where is he?" Doggett opened his mouth, but Scully immediately shushed him. "John, don't tell him yet. Wait until I come back. Mulder, I'm going to get the baby." She stood and hurried out of the room. Doggett shifted onto the chair cushion and locked gazes with Mulder. "Well," he said. "Well," Mulder said back. They sat in silence for several seconds. Then Mulder thought, 'This is stupid. I should be reminding Doggett of the truth instead of wasting precious time staring at his ugly mug.' He cleared his throat. "You may think you have Scully, but once she comes to her senses she'll leave you so fast your head will spin. In fact, doesn't it bother you even a little bit to know that just the other day she was swapping spit with me?" "I think she deserves a tonna credit for kissin' a dead man in the first place. Besides," Doggett smirked, "the way I hear it, there wasn't much swappin' of anythin' goin' on. Not even tongue." Mulder did his best not to let his shock reflect on his face. Scully had kissed and told? The situation was more dire than he had feared. He could only glare helplessly at Doggett until Scully returned, toting William with her. Mulder smiled and reached for his son. "How are you, William? Did you miss your daddy?" Scully stepped out of range and went to stand by Doggett's side. "Remember what I was saying about the baby's name? I have some news for you, Mulder. I came up with a much better one than William -- Walter Jonathan. Isn't that beautiful?" She turned to smile at Doggett, who grinned back. Even William/Walter gargled in seeming agreement. The only one who was obviously unhappy about the alteration was Mulder, who shouted, "Walter Jonathan! That's crazy! You can't get away with it. I won't let you." "You're being awfully presumptuous," Scully informed him. "You *were* only a sperm donor, after all. That doesn't mean you're qualified to be a father, or to have any input in the naming of my child. We had this discussion a long time ago, remember? You *promised* you wouldn't interfere. You said I could trust you." 'Damn,' Mulder thought, 'she has me dead to rights on that point.' Apparently sensing Mulder's discomfiture, Doggett offered, "We figger Walt's a good name for the kid. It's nice an' short, kinda snappy." "After Skinner, naturally," Scully added. "You did say yourself that you thought Walt resembled him." That statement, too, Mulder recalled. Just before the ill-fated, life-altering kiss, he had recited the very words that were coming back to haunt him in a most unexpected way. "Please, Scully, think about this," he entreated. "Then you'll see how ridiculous it all is." As Scully rolled her eyes, Doggett rose with a scowl. "Mulduh, I think it's time you were goin'. Don't you?" Mulder cast one last imploring look at Scully, but her stone face gave him no hope. "Fine. I'll leave, for now. I'm warning you, though, this isn't the end of things." He didn't know precisely how, but he was going to get through to Scully. No matter what it took. The minute Mulder was out the door, Doggett turned to Scully and noticed that she looked a little shaken. "How ya doin', Dana? You gonna be OK?" She nodded, color seeping back into her wan cheeks. "It had to be done. It's best that I spelled matters out as soon as possible and got it over with." Doggett wagged his right index finger in front of Walt's face and considered how best to broach the next touchy subject. The baby's bright eyes tracked the movement; as he latched onto the waving finger with one chubby fist, Doggett spoke. "I hate to bring this up, but what if Mulduh decides to cause trouble, like by fightin' for custody?" "Well, there's no way he could win," Scully reasoned. "Think about it. Who stands a better chance? Mulder, an undead man who recently was fired and has displayed a long pattern of insubordination and mental instability? Or you and me, settled professionals?" "Yeah, I guess you're right. Poor Mulduh. I almost feel sorry for him." "Me, too," Scully quietly admitted. Her plaintive voice nearly broke Doggett's heart, and he said seriously, "Dana, I need you to be 100% totally honest. Do you regret pickin' me? Because if you're not happy, you gotta tell me now so I can bow out." "What?" Scully's head shot up and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Did I give you that impression, John? I'm so sorry. You have to know that I love you and I want to be with you. In fact, never doubt that for a second. Mulder is my past; you're my future. I can feel sorry for him without loving him." Yes, Doggett decided, she could. She was that generous a person, and he had her and Mulder didn't. He would everything in his power to keep Mulder from taking her son away. Thinking about which... "How do you feel about beaches, Dana?" Three days later, Mulder was back on Doggett's doorstep, armed with a new sense of determination. He wouldn't fail this time. He had hardly begun to bang on the door when it flew open and Doggett faced him. "I need to see Scully," Mulder announced. "Lemme guess. You're not goin' away till ya talk to her." "Gee, you catch on quick," Mulder snapped. "She'll be comin' downstairs any minute," Doggett said in an infuriatingly civil tone. "We were just about to go out. You can wait in the livin' room and maybe she'll give you a few minutes." Mulder followed him inside and again chose the couch while Doggett seated himself on the armchair. Despite Doggett's placid expression, Mulder felt like he was being sized up like a boxer in the ring. Rather than give Doggett the advantage, he jabbed first. "You don't fit in on the X-Files, you know. You're the ultimate square peg in a round hole." Doggett nodded agreeably. "Good point, Mulduh. That's why I plan to leave the division right away. After all, I don't have any personal investment in that paranormal mumbo jumbo, so why should I stay there. I'll be movin' on to somethin' more suited to my talents." "Like what? Long haul truck driving? Ditch digging?" Mulder snidely suggested. Doggett looked back at him evenly and stated, "Another area of the FBI. Or I could enter the private sector, y'know. I do have a master's in public administration." Possibly the only thing more frustrating than trying to reason with Scully, Mulder reflected, was trying to talk to Doggett. The man either didn't realize or didn't care that he was being insulted. But that just mean that he'd have to redouble his efforts while they waited for Scully to arrive. On her way down the stairs with Walt, Scully heard voices coming from the living room and paused to listen. To her dismay, one of the voices was Mulder's. Did he never give up? From the sound of things, he was trying to provoke Doggett, who was refusing to rise to the bait. Scully quietly turned and retreated upstairs to settle Walt back into his crib. She then proceeded downstairs. Her entry into the room caused Mulder to stop with his mouth while in the middle of another rude comment to Doggett. "John, could you leave us alone?" she requested. "This won't take long." Doggett obeyed her without an argument. Mulder, meanwhile, stared at her with an intensely pathetic expression he had probably practiced in a mirror for maximum effect. Scully hardened her heart. Mulder put on a good hurt act, but she wasn't about to fall for it. Any day now he would stumble upon some new quest and disappear into the mist, chasing more shadows. She had to look out for herself and Walt. Mulder would be fine, she reassured herself. Keeping that likelihood in mind, she stated, "I don't know a more direct way to say this, so here it is: John, quite simply, is the better man for me. It's no contest between you and him. I'm telling you once and for all to leave me alone." Naturally, that was too much to ask of Mulder, who whined, "Scully, please, look at this whole thing from my perspective." That broken refrain again? Scully stifled a sigh and corrected, "No, Mulder, you have to consider *my* point of view for once. If I stayed with you, what would happen to Walt? He'd be the only child in kindergarten whose parents call each other by their last names. What would you expect me to tell him when he asks Mommy why Daddy won't let her use his first name?" "You're using my name as an excuse to dump me," Mulder accused. "I have plenty of other reasons, most of which I've already given you." "And they still don't make sense," Mulder complained. "I feel like I've crossed into the twilight zone and I can't find my way out. You aren't behaving like yourself, Scully. You're not this shallow." Although in the past she had admired Mulder's unwavering intensity, she was discovering it wasn't nearly as attractive a quality when it was directed at her, against her express wishes. Mulder had crossed the line from pathetic to annoying. Scully took a deep breath and stated, "I want you out. I've had more than enough of you and your attitude. If you don't leave on your own, I'll have you arrested." Mulder shot to his feet and shouted, "Eight years of history, and you're willing to throw it all away for *this*?" Oh, what an opening he'd just given her. Scully yelled back, "Exactly! Eight years without a desk. Eight years without a nameplate on the door. Eight years without the fundamental basis of mutual respect!" She rose and stalked toward the door, with Mulder retreating before her. But as she expected, he couldn't leave without making one more comment. "I'll take you to court if I have to." Scully laughed. "Go right ahead, Mulder. Your case is hopeless. You see, John and I were married yesterday in a beautiful beach front ceremony. I'll mail you a wedding photo as proof, if you want." Mulder turned pale and halted in his tracks. Scully took advantage of his frozen state to duck around him and open the front door. By the time she turned, Mulder had more or less collected himself. "Like I said before, this isn't over," he reiterated as he slowly moved outside. Scully merely eyed him coldly and waited for him to slink away in disgrace. Mulder was a man whose porn collection had bypassed "Debbie Does Dallas" a generation ago; she no longer felt any sympathy for him. It was true. Scully had married Doggett. Mulder let the harsh reality sink in and then he went on the hunt for the best custody lawyer money could hire. If he couldn't convince Scully that she had made a horribly wrong decision, he had to at least try to save his son. In the process, perhaps Scully would come around. His preliminary meeting with Ms. Jones, a highly recommended attorney, went smoothly. However, in the second meeting, Mulder quickly discovered that no matter what aspect of the case Ms. Jones brought up, he stood at a distinct disadvantage as compared to the newly married couple of Doggett and Scully. Ms. Jones looked as discouraged as he felt, yet she managed to inject false brightness into her voice as she suggested, "Why don't we try to compile a list of character witnesses? Which of your acquaintances do you think would be most suitable?" "Uh..." Mulder thought hard. He had accumulated a large circle of acquaintances, but he'd hardly call most of them friendly. "Maybe... I don't know, I guess Frohike, Byers, and Langly. There's just one little problem. These guys are computer hackers who have a profound distrust of our government." Ms. Jones, who had gamely if inaccurately jotted "Frohickey" on her notepad, promptly scratched out the name. "I hope these men aren't your first choice." "Oh, no," Mulder assured her. "The fact is, they're my only choice." "I see." Ms. Jones was beginning to sound desperate, as if she really *did* see. "Can *anyone* put in a good word for you? What about your former boss?" "If you mean Kersh, he's the one who fired me. If you mean Skinner, he's the one I assaulted in front of witnesses several years ago while I was under the influence of LSD. The good thing is, by rights, neither of them should be much more positive about Scully. And come to think of it, Scully has even fewer friends than I do. Make that none. She says several women attended her baby shower, but she didn't know their names. Her mother must have paid them to show up and be friendly for that one occasion." "Hmmm." Ms. Jones rustled through a pile of papers. "Actually, according to my research, the person you should be concerned about is Mr. Doggett. He's such a stand-up individual that even his ex-wife Caroline and his former in-laws are willing to appear on his behalf. Not that they'll be needed -- the man has no shortage of character witnesses. You're looking at a steep uphill battle. Are you positive you want to proceed with this action?" Images drifted through Mulder's mind: Scully pulling away from his kiss, Doggett's triumphant expression, his first glimpse of William's face. "Yes, I'm positive," he declared. "Because if I *don't* do something, my son's going to grow up dropping his g's and saying 'libarry' and 'Mulduh'." The day of the custody hearing started badly for Mulder and grew worse as fact after fact emerged, and witness after witness was called. By late in the day, matters looked black indeed. Skinner's upcoming testimony loomed as perhaps the final nail in the coffin of Mulder's custody chances. Ms. Jones' lips had taken on a perpetually pursed appearance. During a brief break in the action she turned the look on her client and asked, with only a trace of hope in her voice, "Is there any chance A.D. Skinner's testimony could benefit you in any way?" Mulder shook his head. "Probably not, considering that Scully named the baby after him in as blatant a bribe attempt as I've ever seen. Looks like there's some method to her madness after all... Wait a minute... Madness..." With the proverbial click, the word fell into place in the tumblers of Mulder's mind. Surely when she had ordered him out of her life, Scully's eyes had held a manic gleam. And what other explanation could reasonably account for her irrational choice of Doggett over himself? Mulder was amazed this obvious answer hadn't struck him much sooner. Scully had gone insane. He found himself studying his erstwhile partner in a whole new light. Every tilt of her head, every blink of her eyes, took on an added significance. Soon he felt confident that if ever anyone had personified insanity, that individual was Scully. He needed to save her from herself. But he couldn't do it alone. He had to get help from someone who would believe him and take action. And at this low point in his life, he could place only one name on that short list: Skinner's. The pounding of Judge Meyer's gavel roused him, and he came back to the present to hear her announcement of, "Ten minute recess." Perfect. Mulder jumped up and went in pursuit of Skinner. He caught up with his former boss in the outer hallway, and maneuvered him into a small, deserted conference room. "Sir, you have to listen. I don't have time to go into a lot of detail, but I know this much: Scully's gone crazy." "What? Mulder, are you feeling all right?" "Just listen." Swiftly, Mulder recapped Scully's recent bizarre behavior, dating from her rejection of his long-awaited kiss. Clearly stunned, Skinner removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Let me get this straight: You claim Agent Scully left you because your first romantic kiss in eight years did not include enough tongue?" "That's when it all started," Mulder confirmed. "Why are you telling me this?" Skinner demanded. "Because Scully has lost it, and I need you to talk to Judge Meyer. She won't listen to me, but she might to you. You're an assistant director in the FBI. Your opinion carries some weight." Desperately, Mulder sought the words that would ensure Skinner's support. "Scully needs professional help. You have to believe me, for her sake." Skinner stared at him with an indecipherable expression. "Right. For Scully's sake." Mulder grabbed his hand and pumped it. "Thank you, sir. You're doing the right thing." He exited the room with a smile on his face for the first time all day. He had always known Skinner had a soft spot for Scully. The ten minute break was almost over. With a spring in his step, Mulder re-entered the courtroom and slipped into his seat beside Ms. Jones, who looked at him curiously. "Is everything all right, Mr. Mulder?" "It is now," he replied with the satisfaction of knowing matters were under control. He watched as Skinner approached the judge's bench and spoke quietly to her. She glanced at her watch and replied with a shake of her head. Skinner spoke again, more emphatically and at greater length. The judge looked across the room at Mulder, then nodded. After another whispered exchange with Skinner, Judge Meyer rapped her gavel for attention. "I know the hour is late, but a matter has arisen that I feel justifies my consideration. Court is dismissed for the day, but I must request that Mr. Mulder and Mrs. Doggett remain in the vicinity while I speak with Mr. Skinner in my chambers." Confused murmurs spread throughout the room as Judge Meyer and Skinner exited. Slowly, the other courtroom occupants filed out, leaving only Mulder, Scully, Doggett and their attorneys. "What's going on?" Ms. Jones whispered to Mulder. "Something good," Mulder informed her. He refused to elaborate, instead waiting for the judge to come back and shoot Scully down. But minute after minute trickled by without her return. Finally, Mulder stretched his cramped legs and told Ms. Jones, "I'm going outside to get some fresh air. I'll be back in a few minutes." As he proceeded outdoors, he noticed that Scully and Doggett were following him. They probably thought he was up to something and wanted to monitor him. It felt good to have made someone else feel paranoid for a change. Mulder stood on the courthouse lawn and took in lungfuls of crisp early evening air. He heard the chirping of crickets, the hum of traffic, the slamming of a nearby vehicle door. The atmosphere was a big improvement over the clamor of the courtroom. After a few minutes of peace, he turned to go back inside, only to find a group of white-coated medical attendants facing him. "Talk about service. I didn't expect to see you so soon." He helpfully pointed in Scully's direction. "There she is, next to the guy with the jug ears." They advanced upon him then, and Mulder's last coherent thought for a few minutes was that someone, somewhere, had committed a major tactical error, and he thought that someone was him for having trusted Skinner. When he next had a chance to assess his situation, he found himself out of breath and secured on a stretcher, feet tied, hands bound by his sides. He gave a few half hearted tugs to check that the bonds were firm, then gave up the idea of any further struggle. He was caught, all right. And to add insult to injury, Skinner, Scully, and Doggett stood a few feet away, witnessing the spectacle. Skinner looked disapproving; Doggett, surprised but amused; Scully, saddened but relieved. Mulder glared accusingly at Skinner, who slowly, ponderously shook his head, then turned and walked away. "Don't worry, Mulder," Scully called. "I'm sure you'll be fine." Before Mulder could respond, attendants took up positions at both ends of the stretcher and started to convey him away. The young man near his head kept up a patter that was apparently meant to be reassuring, but came off as much more irritating. "We have a nice little padded room all prepared for you. I'm sure you remember what those are like? Everything's going to be all right. We'll take wonderful care of you. You're going to take a nice, long vacation in a very restful place." "I'm not crazy. Really. I'm not," Mulder protested. "If you'd just listen to me for a minute..." He trailed off. His efforts were in vain; the well-trained attendants expected him to proclaim his sanity and wouldn't listen to a word he said. But Scully... Scully could still save him. She had never before failed him before in a time of utmost crisis. He would throw himself on her mercy and hope her dormant sense of impeccable logic would miraculously kick back into play. With a monumental effort, Mulder lifted his head and twisted his neck so he could look back in the direction from which he had been carried. For a moment, the array of colors cast by the setting sun nearly blinded him. After his eyes adjusted, he sought Scully. Yes, he saw her. But unfortunately, Scully didn't see him. For against a backdrop of auburn, burnished orange, bright yellow, vivid pink, and delicate peach she stood facing Doggett, holding his hands, oblivious to the world around her as she gazed into his eyes. With a groan, Mulder let his head flop back upon the stretcher. It was ironic, he decided, that the world thought *he* was the nut. finis Made you laugh, made you cry, made you hurl? Blame the kavendish@zensearch.net
|