Title:  Loose Ends
Author:  Vickie Moseley
Spoiler:  all things
Finished:  April 13, 2000
Rating:  PG
Category:  RST implied, MA
Disclaimer:  um, that was . . .yeah.  Well, it just seemed there needed to
be more said.  This may be a chick interpretation of what real guys would
do, but well, that's just what it is <VEG>  I'm not infringing, I'm not
even condoning.  I'm just writing, without pay or compensation.
Archive:  Yes
To Brandon, because you were enthusiastic.  Hope it fills the bill.  And to
Susan for taking a peek.  Thanks.

Loose Ends
By Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

Mulder rolled over, still clutching the wad of blankets.  When his arm
casually struck empty pillow, his eyes dragged open.

She'd left him.

Wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last, but it still put an empty
space in his heart.  One day, hopefully before they retired to the Old
Agents Home, Scully would stay till morning, lie in his arms and let him
wake up to the smell of her hair as it tickled his nose.  But for now,
falling asleep with her was more than he could ever have hoped.

He glanced at the alarm clock, noting that it was early.  He could easily
turn over, catch a few more zzzzs.  But he tossed the blankets and sheets
to the side and rolled out of bed, shivering as the draft from the window
danced across his bare skin.  He hurried to shower, just to get warm.

As he was toweling off, he made another mental note to call the super about
the drip in the faucet.  He was still a little hesitant to call attention
to himself or his apartment.  Two shoot outs, an illegal and extremely
leaky water bed and numerous other 'offenses' had just about shredded his
lease.  Maybe he could just stop off at a hardware store and buy a new
washer and fix it himself.

He sighed as he stood in front of his closet, pulling out a clean suit coat
and pants.  It was already Monday.  Two whole days, shot to hell.
Transatlantic flights had a nasty way of eating up a perfectly good
weekend.  But at least it hadn't ended on a sour note.  If anything, it had
been the highpoint of his otherwise tedious week.  And he was about to
begin a new one.  To his surprise, he found himself whistling as he headed
out his door, showered, shaved, suited and ready for the new day.

Later, he decided to blame the detour on the 14th Street Bridge for his odd
route.  He found himself right outside Washington Memorial Hospital.  He
kept telling himself that he should turn around, head out of the parking
lot and go straight to the office.  Then a parking space opened up, just a
few feet from the visitors' entrance.  It was a sign of some kind, and he
wasn't about to go ignoring any signs.  He parked and made his way into the
hospital.

His badge bought him the information he desired.  One day, Skinner would
find out exactly how much 'non-essential' information he'd garnered,
flashing his identification.  It would probably cost him a week's pay, but
Mulder really didn't mind.  He was on a mission, and the end justified the
means.

He found the floor without any trouble.  It wasn't until he was right at
the door that his stomach decided to take a roll and drop somewhere below
his knees.  He fought the urge to run back to his car and see how fast he
could make it to the office in rush hour traffic.  But his insatiable
curiosity led him to the door, which was standing open.

Before him lay an older man, much older than Mulder had envisioned.  He
could see this man as a teacher, a mentor.  As a paramour?  Never.  But
then, Mulder knew his partner was drawn to older men.  He already knew
about her affair with Jack Willis while she was still at Quantico.  But a
guy this old?  Mulder shook his head, tried to understand.

The man was asleep.  Mulder was grateful for that small favor.  It was
still pretty early, but an empty breakfast tray sat on the tray table next
to the bed.  The remains of low-cholesterol scrambled eggs and wheat toast
was all that remained of a nice sized meal.  Mulder's mouth watered and his
stomach grumbled in protest to his own lack of breakfast.

The man on the bed slowly opened his eyes and stared at the man in the
doorway.

"Can I help you?" Daniel asked sleepily, taking his left fist and rubbing
at the grit in his eyes.

"Sorry.  Wrong room," Mulder muttered and turned to go.

"Wait."  Daniels voice caught him just as surely as if his hand had landed
on his shoulder.  Mulder turned hesitantly.

"You're him.  You're Dana's partner," Daniel said with a knowing smile.
His eyes grew dark and his face fell slightly.  "You're why she left."

Mulder stood there, watching him, then took a step into the room.  "You're
why she left," he said, not wanting to be cruel, but wanting to inflict
some minor damage.

Daniel's mouth curled on the left side in a poor imitation of a smirk.
"That's true enough.  I should correct myself.  You're why she stayed away."

Mulder tilted his head to accept the point.  "I didn't mean to wake you,"
he apologized.

"No, you just wanted to see who you had bested," Daniel said, his
expression turning sour.

Mulder shook his head.  "It's not like that."

"Yes, it is," Daniel objected.  The smirk came back, just for a moment.
"In your defense, I probably would have done the same thing, if the tables
had turned in my favor."  He looked Mulder up and down.  "Pull up a chair.
Let's talk."

Mulder considered the offer, thought about bolting for the door.  In the
end, he felt maybe this was why he'd come after all.  He found the chair
just behind the door and pulled it to within a few feet of the hospital
bed.  Then he lowered himself gingerly into it.

"Bad back?" Daniel asked.

"Too much time in an airplane this weekend," Mulder explained.  He didn't
want to go into the other activities that had put a crick in his back.
That would have been rubbing salt in old wounds.  "So, you want to talk,"
he said with a nod.

"How long have you known her?" Daniel asked, and Mulder had a fleeting
image of waiting for Scully to come down the stairs and accompany him to
the their senior prom.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Seven years.  Seven years just this last March."

Daniel seemed to take that in, reflect on it.  "I knew her for two years."

"Medical school?" Mulder asked, suddenly curious about a relationship he
had never known existed.

"Her residency.  I was on the faculty of the medical school, yes, but I
never had Dana in class.  She would have scared the shit out of me," he
laughed softly at his own joke.

Mulder smiled.  "She does that to me all the time," he admitted.

"Are you the one who put all that nonsense hocus pocus in her head?" Daniel
asked with a derisive tone to his voice.

Mulder snorted.  "You surely know her better than that.  No body puts ideas
in Scully's head.  They either get there on their own, or they never make
it."

"She was never like that when I knew her.  She never would have fallen for
that mumbo jumbo."

This much of the story, Mulder already knew.  Whether he believed that the
holistic, spiritual approach had saved this man's life or not didn't
matter.  The fact that Scully had opened herself up to that extreme
possibility was all he really cared about.  "She's seen a lot in the past
seven years.  She not as closed off anymore.  It scares her sometimes, I
think.  But she's happy now."

"Happy?" Daniel hooted.  "She sobbed in my arms.  She cried because she
wanted the life she'd walked away from."

Mulder felt the dagger enter his heart and rip its way down to his stomach,
but he held his expression neutral.  "She has doubts.  We all do."  He drew
in enough breath to make the next statement.  "In the end, she decided she
really didn't want to go back to that life." 

"That's your ego talking," Daniel said with a self satisfied smile.

"No, it's Scully talking.  She told me that last night.  That all the
things in her life have led her to this moment, who she is, where she is.
And she's grateful for it all.  She's grateful to you, but that doesn't
mean she wants to go back to what you were to her, what she had with you.
She's moved beyond that.  It's time you did, too."

"Then I'd be out of your way," Daniel said, a cruel and dangerous gleam in
his eyes.

"You're not in my way now," Mulder replied casually.  "You've been in
Washington for ten years.  Where have you been hiding?  Where were you when
she was sick, hurt, needed a friend?  I don't remember running into you at
her apartment.  For that matter, I don't remember her mentioning you at
all, before last night."

Daniel stared at him, coolly.  "You won't let her go, will you?"

"She's her own person.  If she stays, it's her decision.  The Scully I know
is strong enough to know her own mind.  I think you already understand
that."  Mulder pushed himself out of the chair.  "Maybe you should be
asking yourself that question.  You won't let her go, will you?"

Daniel switched his glare from Mulder's face to the blankets covering his
legs.  "I can't let her go.  I don't think I ever really had her."

A chill ran down Mulder's spine and he fought not to shiver.  "She still
cares about you.  She wants you to be happy."

Daniel quickly raised his eyes hopefully.  "She told you that?"

Mulder smiled.  "Not in so many words, but yeah.  She certainly doesn't
hold anything against you."

The older man dropped his eyes again, watching as his hands twisted the
sheet as it folded over the edge of the blanket.  "It'll be hard.  She's
been . . . an obsession.  For so long I didn't dare reveal myself, I was
afraid something like this would happen.  It was easier, not knowing."

Mulder had to bit his lip to keep his own emotions at bay.  "Obsession's a
bitch," he choked out in agreement.  "Worse yet when it ends."

Daniel looked up, first with curiosity, then with recognition.  "You seem
an honorable man, Mr. Mulder.  She could do a lot worse."

Mulder chuckled at that.  "I'm sure her brother would tell you she could do
a lot better," he said.  Glancing down at his watch, he realized the hour.
"Look, she's gonna have my head if I'm late.  It's my turn to stop for
coffee."

"She's hell on wheels until she gets her coffee in the morning," Daniel
commiserated.

Mulder smiled.  "She is that.  Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Dr.
Waterson."  He stretched out his hand and was relieved when the older man
took it in a firm handshake.

"And you, Mr. Mulder."  Daniel held his hand tightly, then released it.
"Take care of her, please?"

"With my life," Mulder replied.  

Twenty minutes later, Mulder pushed open the door to their basement office,
two steaming cups of Starbuck's best in his hands, a bag with two muffins
held tight in his teeth.

"Mulder, I've been here for over an hour.  I know your alarm clock is in
good working condition.  What's your excuse?" Scully growled playfully,
pulling the bag out of his teeth and digging out the larger muffin for
herself.  He handed her one of the coffees and retrieved the remaining
muffin to take to his desk.

"Just needed to tie up some loose ends from the weekend, Scully.  Now,
where is that 302 Skinner was asking for on Friday?"

the end.

Vickie

The minute he heard the phrase "vampire alligators" he 
should've known to pack more underwear. 

From LEAVE A MESSAGE by Amanda Finch and Tim Scott.  A MUST READ, find it
on Ephemeral :)

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