Title: Serious: Part 4
Author: Tara Thorne
E-Mail: as346@chebucto.ns.ca
Disclaimer: Well, let's
see…the evil FOX Network, who seems to have a pay equity
problem, Chris Carter, who seems to have writer's block, and
1013, who I know nothing about, all own the Agents and the one
armed hottie, and if anyone else refers to him as Ratboy in their
responses to me, you'll be able to hear my scream echo
throughout cyberspace!!! Anyway, they're not mine.
Who knew?
Summary: The musings of Dana
Scully. Very little angst on her part. Odd, really.
Rating: My friend, the PG.
Spoilers: Terma
Note: The first three are
essential. If you missed them or put a big ol D beside them
without reading first, I'll forward them to ya as my way of
saying, "Thanks for nothing, but Merry Christmas." :-)
Flames 'n' all at as346@chebucto.ns.ca
I guess whining does get you somewhere. Thanks to my
flippant griping at the end of Serious 3, people have been
extremely nice about sending me responses. Although, I read over
Serious 3 and am surprised no one screeched at me for the glaring
typos and one VERY confusing sentence that I took parts of,
rather than the whole thing, in the transfer from paper to
technology. :-) Anyway, like you all need to read this crap, I
know there are probably dozens of other better stories you could
be reading…
On with it already.
Dana Scully couldn't believe it.
It was absolutely astonishing.
She was being forced to make a choice, and only *one* option had popped in her head. This was highly unlike her, being a doctor and all, not looking at *all* of the alternatives. There were only two in this case, maybe three (she could always jump out the window), but still.
As soon as Mulder had screamed at her she knew she'd have to make a decision, but the one she did make surprised her the most. Even more than it surprised Mulder, and Mulder was a smug man.
Speaking of Mulder-
He'd better clean up all this rice
She looked around her apartment, surveying the damage. It could be worse. It *had* been worse.
The table's totaled
Ah, it's only wood, Scully surmised. Besides, she'd been wanting a new one anyway.
It was odd, how with great ease, during one of the most critical moments of her life, she was thinking about furniture. And rice.
She had been upset up until Mulder screamed at her. She'd been so afraid what could've happened, damning her landlord for being too cheap to hire a temporary doorman, wondering if she'd still have a job the next day. Or a heartbeat, the way Mulder was looking.
But if he hadn't screamed her name things could have went differently. They probably would have, in all honesty.
Coulda shoulda woulda
The way he screamed at her though, it was like a possessive male domineering tone, a challenge even. She'd taken too much of his crap to tolerate *that*.
Hmph
And so she had acted. Possibly out of arrogance, possibly out of love.
Ha
She mused about this possibility as she walked calmly past the splintered table in the general direction of the couch. Brushing a few kernels out of her way, she sat down beside Alex.
Okay
The look on Mulder's face was a tortured one, and she was ashamed to admit that she found it extremely satisfying. She knew she had hurt him, badly, but he didn't understand. No one did. Or could.
Hell, even I don't
Alex was leaning on her slightly, and she glanced down and gave him a hopeful smile. He hadn't said anything since Mulder had blasted through the apartment and punched him, eventually. She wanted to know *his* feelings about the whole thing, but decided that now was probably not a good time to ask. The plastic hand brushed her arm, and she resisted the urge to shudder.
What's that all about anyway?
She added that to her mental list of things to discuss with Alex after Mr. Man left.
Speaking of Mulder, he had stumbled around until he found himself a seat and was staring at her intently. She wanted to scream at him, for wrecking her night, for punching Alex (repeatedly), and for pitching rice all over her apartment.
But he looks so sad
She was beginning to become upset again, because she knew that Mulder was the most hurt she'd ever seen him. And it was her fault. All her fault.
Sigh
His eyes had locked on hers, and he opened his mouth to speak.
Nothing came out.
Do you love him?
He couldn't have said it clearer if he had voiced it. But he didn't need to, his eyes spoke for him.
She wanted to reassure him. She wanted to explain. She wanted to take away the hurt, and the seemingly endless pain she was causing him. But something malicious and evil took over her, and Alex must have sensed it, because just then he took her hand in his.
Though her very being screamed at her *not* to do it, and oh how she hated herself for doing it, Scully nodded ever so slightly.
What did I just do
Mulder was dumbfounded and Scully's heart ached as she watched the hope die in his eyes.
He slowly reached into his coat, which had never made it to the rack, keeping his intense gaze consistent.
Something isn't right here
Scully's eyes grew wide as she realized Mulder was reaching for his gun, and she flung herself to cover a confused Alex.
Mulder, no! Please, no
Mulder grunted in annoyance at her interference, but she didn't care. He would hear the story first. Or she would die too.
Fox, please
He did not put down his weapon, and Scully cringed when she heard the click that told her it was cocked.
She closed her eyes as he aimed.
End Part Four
Continued in Part Five.
Like what you've read? Send feedback