>From euphrosyne@aol.com Sat Apr 12 13:52:56 1997 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New: Mulder, Scully, and the Armrest (1/1) by Cara From: euphrosyne@aol.com -------- Mulder, Scully, and the Armrest (1/1) Cara qlam@isource.net Disclaimers: Basically, everything belongs to CC. No infringement intended. (Sometimes, I wonder why we put that. Just because I forget, does that mean they're going to haul me off to jail? No...) Rating: G (Well, maybe PG for language. Depends on how picky you are.) Classification: V post Quagmire Summary: It started out as pure venting of annoyance, but stupid me decided that it needed a plot. Spoilers: Talks about what happens to Quee Queg in Quagmire Author's Notes: You know, it's a long story. Feel free to skip it. (I mean it I know a lot of people think this is pain in the butt.) I wrote this on my flight back from London. (Guys, DO NOT be stingy. Go business class, at least. It is *so* much better than coach, I cannot stress this enough.) And my situation wasn't *quite* as bad as our duo's was. And yes, the plane they're in is normally only used for overseas flights. Pretend that they ran out of normal airplanes! Oh, and a HUGE thanks to Euphrosyne! (Guys, the Beta Reading Circle is FABULOUS. You've *got* to try it!) Mulder, Scully, and the Armrest (1/1) Cara qlam@isource.net ***************** "Mulder, stop!" Scully hissed. Even from behind, she could see the miniature skirmish going on in front of her. Mulder stiffened. He hated this flight. He *really* hated it. Not only was this a _huge_ plane, (meaning 4 seats in the middle aisle, and 2 seats on the aisles on either side), but he and Scully were separated. Mulder felt his annoyance and frustration roiling up again, and he glared evilly at The Guy. Mulder slowly retracted his elbow from the beloved armrest that was the cause of their strife. This flight was just getting worse and worse. The Guy smirked, and placed his _entire_ arm on the rest, his fingertips almost brushing Mulder's knee. Mulder almost growled, but sensing Scully's glower, backed off. He was SO cramped! He was in the MIDDLE seat, in the MIDDLE of a three aisle plane! Suddenly, Mulder sensed...could it be? Mulder thought wonderingly. He looked up just in time to see The Guy leaving. The Guy turned around, smirking. "So long, buddy. I'm going to first class." Apparently, as a Platinum flyer, he had first claim to empty seats. Mulder thought gloomily. ********* Scully shifted unhappily. She might be smaller than Mulder, but that didn't mean she was anymore comfortable. Especially with a wriggling one-year old next to her. "Honey! Stop it! Sit still!" The Woman next to her turned angrily towards her husband. "Damnit Bill! Next time, Junior gets his own seat! You're too damned cheap!" Scully thought. When the parents started to argue, (loudly), Scully tried not to cry along with the baby. A sympathetic stewardess observed the parental tussle, and noticed that Scully was rapidly becoming a casualty. Finally, she leaned over and whispered, "Ma'am, would you like to move to another seat?" ********** "Hello, Mulder." Scully sat herself into the seat next to her partner, trying not to bump into his legs. Mulder cracked open one of his closed eyes. "Scully, that's MY armrest." Scully sighed. "Sure, fine, whatever." Shifting, she tried to look at her watch. Easier said than done, considering her arms were practically pinned to her sides. Two hours. It was going to be a long flight, which only gave her time to think. Well, she wasn't quite sure that was a good thing. Not now, anyway. Quee Queg was gone. It was all her fault. There were *reasons* why you didn't bring pets on cases. She should have left him in a kennel. At least then he wouldn't be dead. Mulder opened his eyes again and glanced at Scully. Uh oh. She was thinking about the furball again. It was all his fault. Scully had taken that walk to escape *his* theories. Typically, that'd be perfectly normal. As much as he hated to admit it, she could take care of herself. (God, he _hated_ to admit that.) But this time, she'd had that damned dog. It -it was like having a child along. You had to look after it...uh, him. Before Quee Queg, had anyone told Scully that she needed a dog, she would have laughed. She didn't have time for a dog! But...Quee Queg had provided a sense of grounding. Of normalcy. And in the X-Files, normal was hard to come by. Mulder sighed. He didn't know how she felt. How could he? He had goldfish. Goldfish were easy. When they lived, they were fed. When they died, they were flushed. Simple as that. He had never understood her attachment to the dog anyway. It had eaten it's last owner. How disgusting was that? And anyway, SHE was the person he depended on. The person who kept *him* rooted into the 'real' world. Scully gave Mulder a quick glance out of the corner of her eyes. She felt badly because she knew he was feeling guilty, but she didn't know how to reassure him. The way she'd been raised, hugs and comfort had been frequent and meaningful. But Mulder... She knew he hadn't been raised in the same environment. It was difficult for him. "Uh, Scully?" "Hm?" "I'm really sorry." Scully smiled softly. "Yeah, Mulder, you told me. It's not your fault, you know." For a moment, Scully wondered if she should have been more sensitive. No... With Mulder, the direct approach was always best. "Maybe not Quee Queg," Mulder said quietly, "But the fact that you had to go on this case is. The fact that you're even in the X-Files." They had been through a lot together, and usually, he had always been able to empathize with her. To *be there* for her. But this time... He couldn't understand it, but he knew that she was upset. And he just couldn't be there for her. Her restrained frustration boiled over, and she shook her head. "Don't be an ass, Mulder. I'm not just here out of guilt or because the Consortium is forcing me. This is just as much my 'search' as yours. Besides, even though you woke me up on a Saturday morning, I still went on that damned case." She shrugged slightly. "I complained, but I went..." Mulder thought silently. Scully sighed, and felt a familiar sense of emotional release. Smiling faintly, she said, "Why now, Mulder? Why are you asking me this *now*?" Mulder didn't smile back. "I don't know, but it was important to me that you know that I'm here for you." Scully was touched. "I-" "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly. Please note that seat belt sign is on." Silently, they fastened their seat belts, not quite looking at each other. "Uh, Scully?" She glanced at him, surprised. "Hm?" He looked down next to him. "That's MY armrest." ************ End (Feel free to skip. Basically, begging for comments.) Okay, warning to all other writers. DO NOT read other stories before retyping or rereading your own. (I went through a whole slew of stories by various authors, including Paula Graves to make sure that this idea was completely original.) It makes you incredibly jealous and covetous. Sigh. Okay, do I really have to ask for comments? I'm willing to beg here. (PLEASE?) If I don't get enough comments, I'm planning on tracking down EVERY SINGLE person I suspect of having read my story. I'll send them a teary letter of reproachment. If that doesn't work, I'll give them every single detail of my trip to London and Dublin. Cara qlam@isource.net