From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Fri, 13 Jul 2012 00:41:08 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: Gunshot Wounds & Bad Water: A Love Story (1/1) by Tessa Moore
Source: direct

Reply To: tess.moore.xf@gmail.com


Gunshot Wounds and Bad Water: A Love Story
by Tessa Moore

Disclaimer: They're not mine!

Summary: Its been a long time since they've
been on a stake-out. Its been a long time 
since they've been confined to a 6 foot 
space for twelve hours with no escape route. 
Its been a long time since they've talked.

Note: I'm still working on The Moment series.
I'm just not able to sit down and work for 
any long length of time these last couple 
weeks, so little stories will have to do. I'm
hoping to get the first part of Season 3 out
this weekend. 

Please send feedback! I love to hear from 
you (the good, the bad, and the ugly)! 
tess.moore.xf@gmail.com

Tess


Gunshot Wounds and Bad Water: A Love Story

_____________________________________________

A sonnet could have been written about the 
palpable awkwardness occupying the vehicle.
Nothng flowery or prosey, but rather something 
experimental, with a strange lilt would be 
justified. Maybe with just a touch of anger, 
too. It would be bizzare enough to accurately 
depict their lives, as they'd become. Fox Mulder 
drummed his fingers against the steering wheel
and absently wondered if he was driving his 
partner crazy. He hoped so; maybe then he could 
force her into saying something to him. 

They'd been confined to the cab of the car for
nearly eight hours, minus a couple ten minute
bathroom break for each of them. The sun had
set hours before, leaving them to the horrors
of a rather bleak, quiet night, observing a 
questionable criminal with no likelihood of 
leaving his home in the next several hours. 
It was Kirsh's punishment for disappearing 
to Florida to search for a sea monster. One
last dig and ol' Mulder and Scully before 
they were out of his hands.  

The space between them was ripe, the 
uncomfortable silence punctuated with the 
stench of several hours old fast food left-
overs. The wrappers were balled and stacked 
into the console, packed around the empty 
soda cups. Their coffee cups had already been
deposited in the back seat to be thrown out 
later. Mulder blanched - there was only so 
long one could acknowledge the putrid smell of
old ketchup without gagging. 

Deciding he'd reached his limit, he made no 
mention to Scully before he rolled down his 
window, eyeing the trashcan they'd pulled up
parrallel to on the sidewalk. Biting his lip 
and eyeing his target, he threw the wrappers 
one by one. Each wrapper sailed effortlessly
into the wastebin, to which Mulder quietly 
raised his arms in a winning fashion. When he
turned back, rolling the window back up, he 
found his partner watching him exasperatedly. 
In the pale moonlight, she looked ethereal, but
tired and overly concerned. He didn't like the
bags he'd seen forming under her eyes over the
last few weeks. However, if he asked her about
them, he'd be letting a crack form in his 
carefully-honed mask. Fox Mulder the Jackass
extroadinaire wasn't ready to go back to his 
quiet little cage - he was too busy wreaking
havoc in the real world. 

"What?" He eyed her confrontationally. He was 
aware of his tone, but unable to stop it. 

In turn, Scully rolled her eyes at him - she 
had an unlimited repetoire of eye-rolls. There
was the "Mulder, you're crazy", the "Mulder, 
you're not funny", the "You're not cute",
and his personal favorite: the "Mulder, you're 
driving *me* crazy." This one was somewhere 
between "driving me crazy" and "not cute". 

"Nothing." Her voice was flat. Turning a cold
shoulder to him, she peered out the window into
the nothingness that surrounded her side of the
car. 

Mulder shook his head, his anger rising. They'd 
been at an impasse for a week - since they 
returned home from Florida. If he was truthful
with himself, he knew it went back farther than
that; He'd driven nails into his own coffin 
when he'd refused to take Scully's word over 
Diana's. He'd hoped if he didn't discuss it, 
which was their typical MO, the tension would 
dissolve itself. He was wrong. Instead, the 
partnership had festered into derision, and more
disappointingly, total silence. 

"Nothing, huh?" He could hear Mulder the Jackass
coming out for more. "Why don't you go strike a
deal with Kirsh? He was so anxious to get you 
away from Spooky Mulder. Well, Spooky Mulder's
ready to be a free agent. I'm sick of this 
shit." 

He was surprised when his outburst yielded no 
big reaction from her. Instead, she calmly turned
towards him, and squinted at him across the 
darkened car. He knew his words translated to 
'I'm sick of *your* shit', and he inwardly cringed.
Her voice was soft. "Is that really what you want, 
Mulder?" 

He turned his head down to stare at the steering 
wheel. She knew him well enough to understand his
outburst. He knitted his eyebrows, fighting with
himself. "Jesus.." He said under his breath. "I
don't know what I want anymore, Scully. I just know
that I hate what we've become."

Scully nodded. "You just don't get it, do you?" Her
voice was cynical, but not loud or angry. 

Mulder tilted his head in confusion. 

"I need validation, Mulder." The statement fell 
flat. He said nothing, not digesting her words. "I
need to know that you want me around. Because lately, 
I'm not so sure." The words felt harsh, and he 
physically recoiled, turning in his seat. 

His mouth opened and she shot him a glare. 

"I need to finish what I have to say." His mouth 
closed, and he was watching her intently. "Last 
summer, you were ready to take our relationship to
the next level. Then, when I challenged what
happened out on the ice, you dismissed me. I was so 
confused, Mulder."

He sighed. "I expected you to believe me." His tone
was dejected. 

"I told you I believed you. I told you that I was 
working for your answers, finding science to back 
you up. But it wasn't enough." She looked down at
her lap. "Tell me the truth, Mulder..."

His head flew up, immediately drawn into her terrified
eyes. 

"Am I enough for you?" She spoke at little more than 
a whisper. 

"God, Scully... I could never hope for anything or 
anyone better than you." His words took no hesitation.
His eyes were glued to hers, and she looked upon 
his contrite look with mild skepticism. 

"Then why won't you acknowlege my place in your life,
Mulder?" He still looked confused. "Diana Fowley 
would take you back in a second. And the way you 
spoke to me before I got shot...led me to believe 
that you didn't object to that. I know that you two 
have a serious past. I guess I just don't want you to 
feel like you owe anything to me. What you DO owe me 
is the truth." 

"I'm never dishonest with you, Scully." His tone was
exasperated. 

"And that's why it scares me when I don't know 
where I belong in your life." Her gaze held
such honesty, he was sticken. 

"I know that I haven't exactly been there for you
lately." He sighed. "I've been difficult. But you've
got me confused as hell, Scully." 

He could see the ire rising in her face, but he held
up a finger, signalling her to listen as he had. 

"I don't mean to say that the state of our partnership
is your fault. I wanted something more for us." He 
smiled crookedly. "If that bee hadn't stung you, I 
would have slammed you up against the wall and made
love to you until I blacked out." 

She smiled and averted her eyes, a blush creeping 
into her cheeks. He loved it when she blushed. It
made her look even prettier. 

"And then we come back from the Antarctic, and I'm
ready to start talking about a relationship with 
you. But, now you're not resigning from the FBI. Now
you're ready to fight. And, now, you're refuting 
evidence that I thought you'd seen with your own 
eyes... I was frustrated as hell, Scully. I was 
angry with you." 

Scully nodded, taking his reproach like a flogging,
her gaze fallen to her lap and her posture defeated.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. I have this tendency to ruin 
things with my obstinancy and stubborness." She 
licked her lips fervently. At his quirked eyebrow,
she turned to him, gesticulating and attempting to 
clarify. "Every relationship I've ever had has ended 
because my partner thought I was too difficult, or 
too dedicated, or too serious."

"But its not your fault." He shook his head. "We've
both been sending mixed signals. I should have told
you where you stood when I saw your difficulty with
Diana. Instead, I was enjoying manipulating you - 
exaggerating your jealousy and using it to hurt you."

Scully nodded. "And I shouldn't have given you an
ultimatum about Diana. I don't have any claim on you,
and I shouldn't have behaved as though I did." She
wouldn't look at him. 

"But you do, Scully." He got her attention, as she
turned to look at him more fully. "I'll always be 
ready when you are." He smiled widely at her. 

She smiled at him for the first time in weeks, and
though it was a tentative, small smile, it was the
most beautiful thing he'd seen in some time. As 
she shifted in her seat, his eye was drawn to her
abdomen, where she quietly grabbed herself, her 
fist pushing into the wound he knew was there. He 
could hear the catch in her breath, and knew she
was enduring some pain. 

"Still sore, huh?" He remained casual, trying to
avoid looking concerned, lest she say 'I'm fine'
and move on. 

Scully nodded. "The wound doesn't handle it well 
when I sit for long periods of time. Its still got
some problems."

"If only Arthur Dales had known you searched for 
his sea monster and delivered a baby with a gut
wound. I didn't think he could be any more 
excited about you, but I might be wrong." He 
smiled at her teasingly. 

"I misjudged him, Mulder." She spoke slowly. "I
sometimes forget that every human has a vice or
a weakness. It doesn't make them worthless or 
toilers. Underneath the booze and the prickly 
personality, he's just a lonely, friendly old 
man. I'm glad I had the opportunity to prove that
I'm more than just a heartless cynic." 

"You could never be called heartless, Scully..."
His brow knit and he spoke quietly. 

She looked at him dead-on and smiled tightly. 
"Sometimes I wonder." Her gaze fell back to the 
comfortable space of her lap. 

"Can I see it?" He blurted it out, biting his lip.

"What?" Scully cocked her head. "My heart?" 

Mulder chuckled at her. "Your gunshot wound. I
haven't seen it." 

Scully was quick to shake her head, "No, Mulder...
You don't want to see it." She cleared her 
throat. "I don't even want to see it." 

"Are you ashamed of it?" His question was not 
gentle, and Scully was clearly caught by surprise.

She mused  for a moment, and Mulder thought he 
could hear her inner-turmoil from the other side
of the vehicle. She weighed her answer, and her
lip curled, her brow knit, and she chewed on the
inside of her cheek while she thought. 

"Yes." It was all she said. 

"Why?" Another discerning question. 

"Because it was put there by someone who was 
supposed to be protecting me. Because I won't 
ever wear a bikini again, although I was starting
to wonder if my ass was getting too fat to wear 
one anway. I can't run or exercise, so I've gained
weight and I feel like there's no reason to worry
about it because its unlikely that anyone will see
me naked anytime soon. Mostly, I'm just upset that 
this was how the world found out that its a bad 
idea to separate us." Her gaze on his was earnest, 
and fairly sparkling. 

"I still want to see it." He winked at her. 

Letting out an exaggerated sigh and "You're driving
me crazy" eyeroll, Scully began to shrug out of her
light jacket. Once she wrestled herself free of
the sleeves, she pulled her ribbed t-shirt from the
waistband of her slacks, pulling the hem of the 
shirt far enough up to reveal the wound. Mulder was
momentarily distracted by the expanse of pale, 
beautiful skin at her abdomen, but blanched at the
sight of the healing gunshot wound. It was puckered
and still pink. In the blue light streaming into the
car, it was lurid, thick and spider-veined. When 
he looked up to find Scully's face, he instead found
that she was also looking down at the wound, a 
look of terrible sadness upon her face. She studied
it for long seconds after he could no longer look
at it, examining it like one of a million cadavers
over the last year. 

"So this is who I am..." He barely caught the words,
quiet under her breath. He noticed faint tears 
pooling into the corners of her eyes, and turned 
away for a moment. 

"This doesn't define who you are, Scully..." He 
almost whispered to her. She didn't look at him, but
he could feel her listening. "It only defines what
you did this year."

She shot him a cynical look. 

"No, really... a few months in the lives of Agents
Mulder and Scully: Gunshot wounds and bad water... 
Its a love story, Scully..." He smiled at her and 
pulled her shirt down for her, nothing more to 
say. 

____________________________________________________

The End

Please send feedback to tess.moore.xf@gmail.com!
Thank you!


 

Please let us know if the site is not working properly. Set story display preferences.
Do not archive stories elsewhere without permission from the author(s). See the Gossamer policies for more information.