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In Dreams 14

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GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON DC

3:42 AM

It’s not that he expected something to happen immediately. There’s still a chalky aftertaste in his mouth and he swears he can feel the pill land in his stomach. He looks around Scully’s bathroom as if he might find some kind of sudden clarity in the ancient tiles. But there is nothing. No revelation, no sudden onslaught of memory. And the logical part of his brain reminds him not to be disappointed. It’s funny, he notes, that the logical voice in his head sounds a lot like Scully’s.

He flips the light switch and ambles back to the bedroom. She stirs as he slides between the sheets and mumbles something sleepily.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers.

“Are you okay?” she sighs.

“I’m okay,” he tells her reaching out to smooth her hair down.

TWO DAYS LATER
2:20 AM

He swallows the pill dry and again, looks around the bathroom. She’s got all kinds of odd little things in there. He notices a glass ashtray on one of the tables near the tub. Upon closer inspection, he sees that it is emblazoned with the seal of the US Navy. He knows it must have been her father’s, because he now remembers that her father was a Captain. But he also has an image of her, perched on the edge of her clawfoot tub, her hair short and curled at the ends the way it was when they were first partnered together. He can see her, rear balanced on the edge of the bath and the arches of her feet against the table on the opposite wall. The glass ashtray balances precariously on her bent knees as she takes a long drag from a cigarette.

“You okay?” he’d asked her.

“Coping mechanism,” she said as she held up the cigarette.

“Maybe you should have a drink to celebrate keeping your liver,” he teased.

“One vice at a time,” she said as she flicked the ash into the thick glass.

He takes a deep breath and can smell the smoke, rich and familiar. He opens his eyes and it’s gone, the image, anyway. As he turns off the light, he swears he can still smell the smoke.

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DSC15757 by Stephen Hu

Mulder & Scully Save Christmas On Mars! Wanted to put something special together to celebrate the holiday so I “unearthed” this vintage comic book cover from Christmas’ past. Merry X-Mas, X-Philes!

Guys, I’m crying. I just noticed this Gillian trip in “Home”:

This is funny enough on its own, but it’s made better by the fact that 2 seconds later, in the same [continuous] shot, she makes up for it by this perfectly executed 2x4 shovel pass:

If that’s not motivation to get back up when you stumble, then I don’t know what is. 

I have huge respect for writers of fanfic in general but I have a ridiculous amount of respect for writers whose first language is not English. I can barely utter a few sentences in another language, let alone write an entire story with extensive dialogue and subtle character nuances. People that can are amazing. 

Suddenly

by: mldrgrl
Rated: R
Summary:  A sequel to Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down. Post-all things, Scully finally catches up to Mulder.  Spoilers for pretty much half of season 6 and 7, but if you haven’t caught up by now, why are you here?


Trust Mulder to tell Scully he was in love with her one minute and then turn around and run off with Diana Fowley in the next.  It stung.  Badly.  Not just that he’d trusted Fowley over her, but that he’d accused her of letting her personal feelings cloud her judgment.  It was a long time before she could forgive him of that.  

She never doubted the sincerity of his confession, but the desertion and the accusation that came so quickly later threatened to dismantle both their personal and professional relationship.  The trust that had been so hard won between them became all but lost overnight.

Whether he knew it or not, Mulder, it seemed to her, turned to outside sources to fill the space she once filled.  His random, late night phone calls stopped, and she assumed it was due to the tension between them, and it probably was, but when she found out about his friendship with Karin Berquist, it made sense to her.  She could see that Mulder and Karin were lonely, kindred spirits, even if he could not.  It pained her to think of him like that, and it became the catalyst of her desire to see them once again on better terms.

Progress was still slow.  He had that same look in his eyes when she’d nearly had her heart torn out of her chest on his living room floor as he did when she’d been shot in the gut.  And though he held her while she cried and she had to reassure him many times that she was fine, the usual overt gestures weren’t there.  He didn’t offer to stay with her, he didn’t ask if she was sleeping okay, he didn’t even crack a joke about it.

Then he had confused her by coaxing her out late one evening to play baseball.  It was the happiest she’d seen him in a long time.  He was relaxed and it made her relaxed as well.  He made her laugh and just for a few hours, everything felt right again.  Not long after that, the return of Diana Fowley changed everything again.

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