Title: Waltzing Down the Fair Weather Highway (6 of ?) Author: phoenix99 Info in first part. Thanks to everyone who has sent me feedback, it is much appreciated. My email is on the fritz, so I may not have gotten back to some of you. To anyone else who has liked this story, but haven't emailed me... please do! send me feedback and suggestions. even if it's just a sentence or two words! X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X I felt horrible. After getting home from the hospital, all I had done was made coffee, and tried to watch some TV. None of these activities were helping me forget the conversation I had with Mulder in the hospital. I kept replaying our words over and over in my head. Deciphering, categorizing and putting into order every word and gesture. Every facial expression and sudden movement was mulled over for meaning. I was over analyzing. I was trying not to, but it seemed as if the need to put myself through mindless torture was necessary. I can't believe he accused me of not talking to him. What a moron. And why did he go all wiggy on me when I accused him of keeping secrets. Dammit. That last thought had been bothering me. But, since I had returned home, the burning anger and frustration I had felt earlier had cooled. I had tried to stay mad at him, but my anger was misplaced, and didn't last. So now, after bitching and whining to myself and the emptiness of my apartment about how Mulder could be so damn frustrating and mysterious, I had worked myself into a state of total self-pity. I sat on my couch, my coffee was cold, which made me even more depressed, and I was wrapped in a afghan, watching Jerry Springer. It made me feel a little bit better, knowing that these people were more screwed up in some ways then myself. Ok. Maybe that wasn't true. I flipped to the next channel. Ahh yes. A movie. Top Gun. This will do just fine. But the naked torsos and slick bodies did nothing to improve my mood... I shouldn't have told him. It's probably not even true. He's probably working on a profile of me right now... trying to figure out what the hell has gotten in to me. Maybe I should phone him. Just to see how he is doing... no, he'll be asleep at this hour... drugs and all... *RINNNNNNG* Startled out of my state of lethargy. I jumped away from the irritating sound of my cell phone, which was sitting opposite me on the coffee table, and in doing so bumped into the table, spilling cold coffee all over my leg. But, still wallowing in self-pity, I answered the phone with out any hint of annoyance, as if nothing had happened. "Scully." There was a pause. "Hey." It was Mulder. Just as I had expected. I sighed, and sat back down on my couch, ignoring the spilt coffee and bruised shin. "Hi Mulder." "I uhhh... called you on your cell phone 'cause I wasn't sure if you'd be at home." "Oh... Well, how are you doing? Is something wrong? Do you need me to come over?" Forgetting all my previous foreboding, I had slipped into protective mother/doctor mode. "No, I'm fine. I'm starting mild physiotherapy tomorrow... The doctor seemed to know who you were, and said that if you were going to be taking care of me, uhh, helping me change the bandages, then I wouldn't have to stay the normal week and a half. But I have to stay home from work for a week or two." "I'd like to see you pull that off." He wasn't forthcoming with any response, but I waited none the less. A few seconds later I heard him clear his throat. "Scully?" "Yeah?" "You were right." "About?.." "About us never talking. I shouldn't have blamed you for not sharing what... happened in the Fellig case... We've never been very good at expressing our feelings. But, I'd like it if we could try and change that." I almost started crying again. Dammit, why is it that I have been so emotional the past few days. I've never been like this. Ever. "Yeah, I'd like that." "And Scully?" "Yeah?" Another pause. "We're ok...right?" "Yeah Mulder, we're ok." He sighed. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow?" "Yeah. Good night Mulder." "'Night Scully." Mulder can act like such a hopeless romantic sometimes. After I hung up, I thought about our short conversation. Sure, he wanted us to start talking, so did I. What was ironic was that, although we had agreed to talk, that's I'll we had done, was agree to. We hadn't really talked. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X Two days later X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X "Since we can find no evidence to show the cause of Agent Fowley death, and no wrong doing was indicated about either of your actions, this panel feels that there is nothing further to investigate. Your testimony is appreciated, and you will be notified of any new evidence that is presented. Dismissed." They had rescheduled the hearing for earlier in the week, mainly because they couldn't find anything to investigate. The hearing itself had been rather brief, and I was grateful for getting out of that room in what seemed like record time. Mulder's account of the events had been rather blurred and unspecific in some spots, but it was basically identical to mine. Mulder got up shakily from his chair. I lent him my shoulder for some support, and I was relieved when he didn't push me away. We made our way through the Hover building. Attracting curious stares from the other employees. I held open doors for him, and when we reached my car, I helped Mulder into the passenger seat. They had let Mulder out of the hospital under my watch, only because of today's hearing and the fact that I was a doctor. He was using a cane, and getting around pretty well to everyone's surprise. I shut my door, and started the car. "Well, I'd say that went over rather well." Mulder the optimist. He was right though. Neither of us was missing, in jail, being fired, laughed at, accused of murder, presumed dead... or anything else of that nature. Nodding in agreement, I pulled out onto the street, and started for his apartment. I had spent the past few days with him in the hospital. I had brought him his lap top, and some book from his apartment. I usually bring him some files to mull over, but we were both on 'vacation' so that idea was scratched. I told Mulder I'd help him out for the first week, or until he became more comfortable moving around his apartment. I know doing this will most likely force us into talk more, which is good, but... it's just that, I feel that the benefits of that happening will be bittersweet. We haven't discussed anything about our current 'situation'; as I have referred to calling it. That is if we even have a 'situation'. Looking back on it now, I think I may have just overreacted. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing Mulder being shot, and I subconsciously needed to have some explanation for his continued life; his swift and soon to be, full recovery. Yeah, sure, that was it. The old subconscious at work. "...Earth to Scully?" Mulder was poking me in the arm. "What? oh sorry..." Damn. How long have we been sitting here. I must have been on acting on autopilot that entire time. We've just been sitting outside his apartment.. God knows for how long.. "Got something you'd like to share with the class?" uhhh... "Uhh... maybe we could order some Tai food?" Mulder gave me a weird look. "You've been debating whether or not to suggest Tai food this entire time?" Of course not, but like I'm really going to tell you that... "No, I was just thinking about something I heard earlier." Maybe he would get the hint. "Oh yeah? What's that?" I got out of the car and self-consciously walked around to the other side, and opened Mulder's door. "Maybe I'll tell you after we get the food." He looked up at me from his seat in the car, then sighed. "Yeah, Tai sounds good." X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X It didn't take us an incredibly long time to get upstairs to his apartment like I had thought it would. Although when we got there I had to go back down to the car three more times for items that we had forgotten to bring up the first time. Mulder had just gone to take shower. The food should be here in a few minutes... "Scully?!" Shit, Mulder.... I ran to the bathroom door. "Mulder?! What is it? What's wrong?" My voice was laced with worry and fear. "Mulder?.. Mulder, I'm coming in..." I pushed opened the door and found him standing in the middle of the bathroom, wrapped in a navy blue towel. He was facing the mirror, but was currently looking at his stomach. He had his bandages off, and was examining his gun shot wound. He didn't look to be in immediate danger, and I felt my heart rate slow down. "Mulder? What is it?" "Look..." He pointed to his scar. I looked down at it and gasped. "Mulder..that's..." "impossible?" The small circular hole that the bullet had left was totally healed over. I leaned over to study it more closely. It looked just like mine. I tentatively reached out my hand to touch the light coloured skin. I ignored the slight twitch of his muscles under my confidant touch. His hands came up suddenly, and held the bottom of my sweater. I held back my gasp and heart rate was back up to where it had been moments before. I arched an eyebrow at him, hoping to maybe scare him of, but Mulder is very tenacious, and is not easily discouraged. "I just wanna see your scar, Scully." I lifted the bottom of my sweater up for him, and we both looked down at the small circular mark on my abdomen. He looked back at his own scar, then reached out to touch mine. My first thought was to stop him, but I didn't. I kept as still as possible, anticipating his touch. His figures brushed my skin lightly then I watched as he compared the texture to his own scar. "They're the same. Both healed." "But Mulder..." "How long did your wound take to heal? Really, Scully. How many days passed until you woke up, looked in the mirror and said 'I'm healed'?" I really didn't feel like reminiscing on the subject, so ignoring the question, I turned my attention back to his injury. I pressed my first three fingers more firmly against the lightly coloured skin. He didn't flinch. "How does it feel Mulder?" "huh?" "Your stomach Mulder, do you feel any pain?" "No." That can't be right. "Did you take any pain killers recently?" "No." "Are you sure..." "Scully, it didn't look like this a few DAYS ago. Is this natural? Or maybe you've seen this before?" Damn him. He continued to prod. "How many days?" Sighing with resignation, I bowed my head and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. "Four." He thought about that a moment, then he continued. "I don't remember my previous gun shot wounds healing this quickly." "No, Mulder. They didn't." "Maybe this faster recovery is from what you said hap-" "No, Mulder. I was wrong. I was just upset about what happened... I don't think I can accurately judge what happened in the factory. I just... Immortality is not scientifically possible. It would mean that everything down to a cellular level would have-" "Scully, this isn't a scientific... issue. This has to do with peoples' souls... our souls. We can't be sure if what happened made us immortal, because we have no.. safe way of testing that theory. This," he pointed to the small scar, "proves that something did happened; to both of us. Something that obviously causes us heal quicker..." He paused and looked at me pretentiously, "unless you have some kind of scientific explanation for this?" I was going to start my usual spiel of irrevocable evidence and facts, but the words were not forth coming. "No, I do not have a plausible explanation for this, but I'm sure there is one. I just don't know how to find it." "I don't think you will find it. This is beyond the realm of science." "Mulder, nothing is beyond the realm of science." Mulder rubbed his brow with his hand, and slowly sat down on the toilet seat. I turned away from him, "The food will be here soon." and left the bathroom. X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X to be continued...