Title: Strangers in a Bar (it's a working title, my creativity is
lacking...)
Author: Gillian Leigh
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own none of it. The thoughts, actions and words of these characters are all stemmed from the ideas (the copyrighted ideas) of the brilliant Chris Carter.
Feedback: Yes please!!!!
*Author's Notes: *Authors Notes: I reformatted this, because it pissed me off that it didn't have paragraph breaks and all that jazz...*
~(X)~
"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender asked of the red-haired woman who had been steadily pounding back shots for over an hour. The woman looked down at her empty glass, and then slowly shifted her gaze to the bartender, saying,
"I'm paying you, right?" He stopped his glass drying for a moment, and said uncertainly,
"Yeah." She pushed her short hair behind her ears and said,
"Well then, I'm done when I say I'm done." The bartender shook his head, feeling slightly embarrassed, and turned his back to the woman, placing the dried glasses in their correct places.
The woman had caught the attention of a man seated at the other end of the bar. He was a frequent patron, and he had never seen her before. He noticed that she was dressed entirely in black, wearing black high-heeled pumps, a knee-length black skirt, and a black blouse. Her black winter coat was lying across her lap. Even in the dim light of the bar, he could see that she was attractive, strikingly so. She didn't wear much make-up, but she didn't need to; the way she carried herself said enough about her beauty. The man-who-frequented-the-bar raised his right hand to call the bartender to him.
"What can I get you, Mr. Mulder?" The bartender, whose nametag read "Jake", asked.
"Vodka and tonic, please," Mulder said. When Jake brought him his drink, he took a sip and then asked, "Jake, that woman at the end of the bar, the red-head, what's her story?" Jake leaned in, and spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard talking about the mysterious red-headed woman to Mulder.
" She came in here about an hour ago, sat herself there, ordered straight shots of vodka, and has been pounding them back ever since. She doesn't talk much, but from what I can gather, she lost someone in her family, and rather than go to the wake party, and be offered endless, hollow condolences, she came here to drown her sorrows." Mulder nodded, finishing off his drink in one swig.
"I can't blame her. All those people say that they're sorry, but they never are as sorry as they make out to be," he stated, matter-of-factly. Jake nodded, and Mulder said, "Thank you, Jake, but I should be going now. As it is, I have to get a cab home." Jake took his glass and his money, turning away from him. Mulder stood and put on his winter coat, he was looking for his keys in his pocket when the red-headed woman's beeper went off. He stopped what he was doing to watch her. She pulled the beeper off her waist band, and after glancing at it, let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Jesus Christ," she said, replacing it, and pulling money from her pocket. She threw it down on the bar, and attempted to stand, saying, "The way my mother nags at me, you'd think I was her rebellious teenage daughter who needed to be kept on a leash, rather than her twenty-nine year old daughter who can take care of herself." She grumbled loudly as she tried to put on her coat. She swayed dangerously, and steadied herself on the bar. Mulder moved toward her, and she looked up from buttoning her coat, having sensed his presence. From his towering height of six foot one, he saw for the first time how tiny she was. She ignored him, pulling her car keys from her pocket, and turned to walk shakily out the door. Mulder decided it was time for action, and snatched the keys from her hand. She looked up at him, angrily, saying,
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"There's no way you're driving home. Look at you, you can hardly walk," he said, as she stood with her hands on her hips, shaking either from anger, or too much alcohol, Mulder couldn't tell which.
"Excuse me? Who the hell are you, and why should you give a damn about what condition I choose to drive myself home in? Give me back my keys," she said, forcefully, extending her hand. Mulder shook his head.
" I can tell that you don't live near here, because I've never seen you in this bar before, so I'm not about to let you drive some insane distance home, while you're too smashed to even stand up straight. I'll give you back your keys, when you're in the cab and on your way home, wherever that may be," Mulder said, gently guiding her out the door and onto the sidewalk.
"I don't have the money for a cab," she said, pulling her coat around her to keep out the biting cold. Mulder did the same.
"I'll pay for it," he said. She searched for a moment for some kind of argument. All she could come up with was,
" I don't ride in cabs with strangers." Mulder snorted, shaking his head. "What?!" she exclaimed, looking up at him, and brushing her hair out of her eyes.
"Nothing, nothing," he said, pausing. "My name is Fox Mulder," he said, extending his hand. She looked first at his hand, then up at him and said,
"My name is Dana, Dana Watterston." she shook his hand, smiling for the first time.
"Nice to meet you, Dana," he said, ushering her into the cab that had just pulled up. He climbed in beside her, and closed the door.
The cabbie asked, "Where're we headed folks?" Mulder nodded to her, and she said,
"Georgetown, please." The cabbie smiled at her in the rearview mirror and nodded.
"And after you take this fine lady to Georgetown, I'll be heading to Arlington. But keep the meter running, I'm payin'," Mulder said, settling down into the seat. He watched Dana, who was staring out the window, her elbow on the arm rest, her chin resting on her hand. He could smell her perfume, something light and flowery, which gave the impression of romance. She abruptly sat back, and caught Mulder glancing at her, taking every inch of her in.
"Mr. Mulder," she said, choosing not to address his staring, because he was apparently uncomfortable, seeing as he dropped his eyes the moment she saw him. "I need to thank you for making me take the cab home. It would have been a little hard to drive, seeing as there are two of everything..." she giggled. With every passing moment, he grew more and more attracted to her. The two had been sitting in silence for several moments when she suddenly said,
"Scully." and Mulder looked at her, saying,
"I'm sorry?" She looked up at him, as surprised that he had spoken, as he had been at her sudden outburst.
"Oh, I-I must have been thinking out loud," she said quietly, looking down at her lap. Mulder could see tears forming in her eyes.
"What is it? Was it something I said? Something I did?" Mulder asked, hesitantly putting his hand on hers. She raised her eyes, wiping tears from her cheeks, and said,
"I'm sorry. It-it wasn't you. I should have told you that my name was Dana Scully, not Dana Watterston. I- just lost my husband three days ago, and we buried him this afternoon..." she said, her voice dropping slightly.
"I'm so sorry," he said.
"Thank you," she said. Dana looked down at Fox's hand in her lap, and squeezed it tightly, glad to have it there. "We were actually heading toward a divorce; five years with that man felt like an eternity, but it still hurts." Mulder nodded. She continued, "And I came to the bar, because, I would rather be surrounded by silent strangers, than by family and friends who want to do nothing but talk."
"Hollow, empty, meaningless conversation is often more unsettling than silence," Mulder said. She nodded, and leaned into him. She felt none of the discomfort that he did. Dana folded her legs under her, snuggling into Fox, who was warming to her. He put his arm around her. When they had gotten into Georgetown, Dana began giving directions. When they pulled up in front of a rather large house, and Mulder moved to open the door, Dana put her hand on his arm.
"I can't go in there. I can't face all those people, and hear how sorry they are, and how much they'll miss Daniel. I can't deal with my mother, who is already pissed off at me because I didn't come home," she said frantically, and somehow, Fox understood, and told the cabbie to go. They were headed for Arlington, when he said,
"Where are you going to go? There aren't any motels open during the Thanksgiving holiday, and those that are, are undoubtedly full to the gills..." he hesitated, thinking to himself, 'What am I doing?', and then said, " Why don't you come to my place? I'll take the couch. " She brightened, and showed only slight hesitation when she said,
"Alright. Thank you, so much.. Err, do you prefer Fox?"
"Mulder's fine," he said.
"Call me Dana," she offered.
The cab pulled up to Mulder's apartment building, and after paying the cabbie, Mulder got out, and offered Dana his hand. She stepped out of the cab and with Mulder's aid she walked unsteadily up to his apartment. He unlocked the door, and paused, saying,
"You're not a neat freak, are you? Oh you are," he said. "Well, brace yourself." He threw the door open, and the two entered the disheveled apartment. Mulder took off his coat, and then took Dana's, and no sooner had he draped the two over a chair than a cell phone began ringing in one of the pockets. Mulder checked his coat first, sure that it was his phone, and one of his superiors checking in on him; he was mistaken. Dana plucked her cell phone from her coat pocket,
"Oh, hi Mom," she said, and made a face. Fox muffled his laughter. "Oh, some punk ass kids slashed three of my tires, and my damn car wouldn't start. I'm staying in the... Beryl Motor Lodge.... No really, Mom, I'm fine, just exhausted. I'll be home in the morning. Love you too, buh-bye," she triumphantly hung up the phone. She put her coat back on the chair, and turned to Mulder, saying, "Where's your bathroom?" he pointed her in the direction of his diminutive bathroom, and then headed for the kitchen. He began making coffee, in hopes of getting rid of the headache that he knew was starting to form. He rubbed the knot at the base of his skull which was the signal of the starting of a beastly headache. Dana entered the kitchen looking a little pale. Mulder turned to her with concern, saying,
"Are you alright?"
"I usually hold my liquor well, but I'm not feeling so hot," she said, holding her head. Mulder moved to the refrigerator, and pulled out a can of ginger ale. He opened it, poured some in a glass, and handed it to Dana, who thanked him after accepting the glass by promptly throwing up all over his shoes.
An hour later when Dana was sitting on Fox's couch, in one of his old shirts and her skirt, wrapped in a blanket with a cool compress on her head and a bucket at her feet, she was still apologizing profusely.
"No, really, I feel terrible. I felt a little woozy, and then it just...came out of me," she said, her cheeks red with embarrassment. He smiled at her.
"Sadly, that's not the first time I've been thrown up on. In college, I was often the target of alcohol induced vomit," he said, laughing.
"You were a partier in college, then?" she asked.
"Well, I wasn't as much as my roommates were," he said, laughing. "But I did get in my good share of hangovers. What about you? You don't seem much like the partying type," he said, turning to her. She took a sip of her ginger ale, and said,
"No, I wasn't big into partying. Mostly because I knew that my parents would kill me if I screwed up in med school and had to retake a course. They were already paying a ton of money for my college education anyways, and I didn't dare get hung over and miss an exam, or a class for that matter," she said, laughing. "I didn't really live until I got married. Daniel was my Med School teacher, one of my professors, and he helped me out with my studying so I could go out and have fun. So what is it that you do?"
"I'm in the FBI," he said humbly. Dana was more interested than he could have expected.
"Really?! I thought about being in the FBI for a while, but Daniel and my family protested, and I consented and continued with my medical school. So tell me all about yourself," she said, settling down into the couch.
Mulder launched into his life story, which seemed a little odd to Dana, but she listened, totally enthralled as he described the many things he had seen, and done. The two talked into the hours of the early morning. Dana laid down to go to sleep at 3:00, but found that she couldn't sleep.
After a half an hour had passed, she ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water. She paused when she passed Mulder sound asleep on the couch. Dana had forgotten about the glass of water she'd wanted when she covered him with the blanket that had been lying across the back of the couch. She hurried back to his bedroom and pulled the blanket and pillow she had been using, out to the living room. She sat in the chair across the room from him, and situated herself comfortably. She propped her elbow up on the edge of the chair, and with a smile on her face she watched Mulder sleep, realizing for the first time how attracted she was to him. She studied his sleeping face, and the expression of calm that took him over at night. Dana found herself almost lovingly studying his strong features; his beautiful chocolate brown hair, his eyes which in some light were green, in others they looked blue, and his prominent nose and chin, and his gorgeous, soft-looking lips. As she fell asleep watching him sleep, Dana asked herself,
'Is this right? I just lost my husband. Should I be grieving more than this?' she consoled herself saying, 'But we had been growing apart for quite some time. Even Daniel wanted out, and my parents wanted the same so the two of us would be happy, even if that meant being apart.' She yawned, and mumbled to herself, 'The vows did say, 'Until death do you part'.' She drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
She awoke hours later to Mulder gently shaking her shoulder.
"Morning," he said, handing her cell phone to her as it rang obnoxiously.
"What time is it?" she asked before answering it. Mulder looked at his watch,
"9:15." she looked slightly surprised, but didn't seem concerned. She answered her phone, saying,
"Dr. Watterston speaking. Oh, hi Mom. I slept fine. Yeah, I'll be home in about an hour. I'm at the garage right now having new tires put on and they're checking the engine for me. And if I'm not back in an hour, I'll be home as soon as possible, ok? Love you too, bye," she said, hanging up the phone. Mulder felt the undeniable attraction he had for Dana more strongly than ever this morning, but he couldn't help asking himself, 'Does she feel the same way? Even a tiny bit?' He shook himself as she yawned rising slowly from the armchair. His curiosity had been tugging at him since he had awoken at 7:45 and found Dana sound asleep across the living room from him, wearing only his shirt, her bare feet with painted pink toe nails barely visible under his heavy bedspread. Her red hair was slightly puffy, and she looked almost too pale in the morning light that shone through his window, but she was still beautiful to him. He couldn't resist asking any longer, however, and said,
"Umm, Dana, how exactly did you wind up sleeping in the most uncomfortable chair ever manufactured in the history of man?" She laughed, bending and twisting until Mulder heard a series of pops, snaps and cracks as Dana popped nearly every bone in her body. He winced, and she laughed again, and then apologized.
"Sorry about that; it's a nasty little habit I've developed. But anyways, back to the chair thing. Well, I found that after we agreed to stop talking and actually sleep, my recurring insomnia set in. I guess it comes from working all those twenty-four hour shifts at the hospital. Well, anyways, I decided that maybe the fact that I couldn't sleep stemmed from the fact that I haven't had to sleep in a room by myself for five years. I didn't want to wake you, so I came out and opted to sleep in the chair, rather than the floor, which, at this point in time is seeming like the wrong decision," she said, grinning as she cracked her neck again. Mulder smiled at her, feeling no need to reply verbally, and simply left the room and returned with two cups of black coffee.
Having left the blanket and pillow on the chair, Dana sat down on Mulder's couch, and folded her legs beneath her. Mulder sat down as well, a comfortable distance from his guest. The two talked over coffee, each studying the other, feeling the mutual attraction. After they had drunk the last drops of their coffee, Dana wordlessly took his cup and stood, bringing them to his kitchen and without hesitation, washing them in the sink. She put them in the small drying rack which sat to the right of the sink on the crowded counter.
"Now, you didn't have to do that," Mulder said, standing closely to her.
"Please, Mulder, it was the least I could do. For God's sake, you met me in a bar, and not only was I overly hostile toward you, but I acted like a total ass, and then you pay for my cab, and let me, a total stranger you met in a bar, spend the night at your apartment, and offer me your bed, your clothes, and your coffee, no questions asked. Washing a couple of coffee mugs is the least I can do to repay you," she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He pulled back, surprised, but then said,
"Well, that helps too." She looked up at him, seriousness in her eyes, which, he noted, were a brilliant blue, and she said,
"No, really, what can I do to repay you for your kindness?" He thought on it for a moment, and she followed him as he paced through the apartment and into his bedroom, opening the door to his closet. He pulled out a gray tee shirt, navy blue sweatshirt, and blue jeans, all the while contemplating her question. Knowing that Dana was in the room, but not hesitating to remove his shirt, he spun around to face her quickly when the answer came to him.
"Let me take you out to dinner," he said, taking her hands and grinning wildly at her. Dana was taken aback.
"You're-you're asking me out on a date?" she said, to the tune of statement rather than question. "I haven't been on a date in... well, forever, and how is your taking me out to dinner, and once again spending your money on me going to repay you for yesterday and this morning?" He didn't hesitate before responding,
"Our spending time together is payment enough." Dana felt, to her surprise, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
"That was the first genuine thing I've heard anyone say in a long time," she said, taking his hand, "and the answer is yes. Here is my number, call me later with the details." She hurried into the other room, and dressed quickly, pulling her wrinkled skirt and blouse from the floor where they had been lying in a heap. She didn't bother with her nylons; she had, in fact, in all her excitement, forgotten that she had worn any. She said goodbye to Fox, and handed him her business card from her coat pocket, and kissed him, once again, on the cheek before practically running out the door, eager, for the first time in a great while, to get home.
Margaret Scully sensed the difference in her daughter as soon as she walked through the door. The fact that it had been just above freezing all morning, and Dana wasn't dressed for the weather apparently had not even bothered her.
"Morning, Mom," Dana said cheerily, removing her coat and handing it by the door.
"You seem awfully happy for someone who undoubtedly just paid a great deal of money to have three new tires put on her car and the engine checked," Margaret said, giving her daughter an "all-knowing" look which all mothers possess.
Author: Gillian Leigh
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own none of it. The thoughts, actions and words of these characters are all stemmed from the ideas (the copyrighted ideas) of the brilliant Chris Carter.
Feedback: Yes please!!!!
*Author's Notes: *Authors Notes: I reformatted this, because it pissed me off that it didn't have paragraph breaks and all that jazz...*
~(X)~
"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender asked of the red-haired woman who had been steadily pounding back shots for over an hour. The woman looked down at her empty glass, and then slowly shifted her gaze to the bartender, saying,
"I'm paying you, right?" He stopped his glass drying for a moment, and said uncertainly,
"Yeah." She pushed her short hair behind her ears and said,
"Well then, I'm done when I say I'm done." The bartender shook his head, feeling slightly embarrassed, and turned his back to the woman, placing the dried glasses in their correct places.
The woman had caught the attention of a man seated at the other end of the bar. He was a frequent patron, and he had never seen her before. He noticed that she was dressed entirely in black, wearing black high-heeled pumps, a knee-length black skirt, and a black blouse. Her black winter coat was lying across her lap. Even in the dim light of the bar, he could see that she was attractive, strikingly so. She didn't wear much make-up, but she didn't need to; the way she carried herself said enough about her beauty. The man-who-frequented-the-bar raised his right hand to call the bartender to him.
"What can I get you, Mr. Mulder?" The bartender, whose nametag read "Jake", asked.
"Vodka and tonic, please," Mulder said. When Jake brought him his drink, he took a sip and then asked, "Jake, that woman at the end of the bar, the red-head, what's her story?" Jake leaned in, and spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard talking about the mysterious red-headed woman to Mulder.
" She came in here about an hour ago, sat herself there, ordered straight shots of vodka, and has been pounding them back ever since. She doesn't talk much, but from what I can gather, she lost someone in her family, and rather than go to the wake party, and be offered endless, hollow condolences, she came here to drown her sorrows." Mulder nodded, finishing off his drink in one swig.
"I can't blame her. All those people say that they're sorry, but they never are as sorry as they make out to be," he stated, matter-of-factly. Jake nodded, and Mulder said, "Thank you, Jake, but I should be going now. As it is, I have to get a cab home." Jake took his glass and his money, turning away from him. Mulder stood and put on his winter coat, he was looking for his keys in his pocket when the red-headed woman's beeper went off. He stopped what he was doing to watch her. She pulled the beeper off her waist band, and after glancing at it, let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Jesus Christ," she said, replacing it, and pulling money from her pocket. She threw it down on the bar, and attempted to stand, saying, "The way my mother nags at me, you'd think I was her rebellious teenage daughter who needed to be kept on a leash, rather than her twenty-nine year old daughter who can take care of herself." She grumbled loudly as she tried to put on her coat. She swayed dangerously, and steadied herself on the bar. Mulder moved toward her, and she looked up from buttoning her coat, having sensed his presence. From his towering height of six foot one, he saw for the first time how tiny she was. She ignored him, pulling her car keys from her pocket, and turned to walk shakily out the door. Mulder decided it was time for action, and snatched the keys from her hand. She looked up at him, angrily, saying,
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"There's no way you're driving home. Look at you, you can hardly walk," he said, as she stood with her hands on her hips, shaking either from anger, or too much alcohol, Mulder couldn't tell which.
"Excuse me? Who the hell are you, and why should you give a damn about what condition I choose to drive myself home in? Give me back my keys," she said, forcefully, extending her hand. Mulder shook his head.
" I can tell that you don't live near here, because I've never seen you in this bar before, so I'm not about to let you drive some insane distance home, while you're too smashed to even stand up straight. I'll give you back your keys, when you're in the cab and on your way home, wherever that may be," Mulder said, gently guiding her out the door and onto the sidewalk.
"I don't have the money for a cab," she said, pulling her coat around her to keep out the biting cold. Mulder did the same.
"I'll pay for it," he said. She searched for a moment for some kind of argument. All she could come up with was,
" I don't ride in cabs with strangers." Mulder snorted, shaking his head. "What?!" she exclaimed, looking up at him, and brushing her hair out of her eyes.
"Nothing, nothing," he said, pausing. "My name is Fox Mulder," he said, extending his hand. She looked first at his hand, then up at him and said,
"My name is Dana, Dana Watterston." she shook his hand, smiling for the first time.
"Nice to meet you, Dana," he said, ushering her into the cab that had just pulled up. He climbed in beside her, and closed the door.
The cabbie asked, "Where're we headed folks?" Mulder nodded to her, and she said,
"Georgetown, please." The cabbie smiled at her in the rearview mirror and nodded.
"And after you take this fine lady to Georgetown, I'll be heading to Arlington. But keep the meter running, I'm payin'," Mulder said, settling down into the seat. He watched Dana, who was staring out the window, her elbow on the arm rest, her chin resting on her hand. He could smell her perfume, something light and flowery, which gave the impression of romance. She abruptly sat back, and caught Mulder glancing at her, taking every inch of her in.
"Mr. Mulder," she said, choosing not to address his staring, because he was apparently uncomfortable, seeing as he dropped his eyes the moment she saw him. "I need to thank you for making me take the cab home. It would have been a little hard to drive, seeing as there are two of everything..." she giggled. With every passing moment, he grew more and more attracted to her. The two had been sitting in silence for several moments when she suddenly said,
"Scully." and Mulder looked at her, saying,
"I'm sorry?" She looked up at him, as surprised that he had spoken, as he had been at her sudden outburst.
"Oh, I-I must have been thinking out loud," she said quietly, looking down at her lap. Mulder could see tears forming in her eyes.
"What is it? Was it something I said? Something I did?" Mulder asked, hesitantly putting his hand on hers. She raised her eyes, wiping tears from her cheeks, and said,
"I'm sorry. It-it wasn't you. I should have told you that my name was Dana Scully, not Dana Watterston. I- just lost my husband three days ago, and we buried him this afternoon..." she said, her voice dropping slightly.
"I'm so sorry," he said.
"Thank you," she said. Dana looked down at Fox's hand in her lap, and squeezed it tightly, glad to have it there. "We were actually heading toward a divorce; five years with that man felt like an eternity, but it still hurts." Mulder nodded. She continued, "And I came to the bar, because, I would rather be surrounded by silent strangers, than by family and friends who want to do nothing but talk."
"Hollow, empty, meaningless conversation is often more unsettling than silence," Mulder said. She nodded, and leaned into him. She felt none of the discomfort that he did. Dana folded her legs under her, snuggling into Fox, who was warming to her. He put his arm around her. When they had gotten into Georgetown, Dana began giving directions. When they pulled up in front of a rather large house, and Mulder moved to open the door, Dana put her hand on his arm.
"I can't go in there. I can't face all those people, and hear how sorry they are, and how much they'll miss Daniel. I can't deal with my mother, who is already pissed off at me because I didn't come home," she said frantically, and somehow, Fox understood, and told the cabbie to go. They were headed for Arlington, when he said,
"Where are you going to go? There aren't any motels open during the Thanksgiving holiday, and those that are, are undoubtedly full to the gills..." he hesitated, thinking to himself, 'What am I doing?', and then said, " Why don't you come to my place? I'll take the couch. " She brightened, and showed only slight hesitation when she said,
"Alright. Thank you, so much.. Err, do you prefer Fox?"
"Mulder's fine," he said.
"Call me Dana," she offered.
The cab pulled up to Mulder's apartment building, and after paying the cabbie, Mulder got out, and offered Dana his hand. She stepped out of the cab and with Mulder's aid she walked unsteadily up to his apartment. He unlocked the door, and paused, saying,
"You're not a neat freak, are you? Oh you are," he said. "Well, brace yourself." He threw the door open, and the two entered the disheveled apartment. Mulder took off his coat, and then took Dana's, and no sooner had he draped the two over a chair than a cell phone began ringing in one of the pockets. Mulder checked his coat first, sure that it was his phone, and one of his superiors checking in on him; he was mistaken. Dana plucked her cell phone from her coat pocket,
"Oh, hi Mom," she said, and made a face. Fox muffled his laughter. "Oh, some punk ass kids slashed three of my tires, and my damn car wouldn't start. I'm staying in the... Beryl Motor Lodge.... No really, Mom, I'm fine, just exhausted. I'll be home in the morning. Love you too, buh-bye," she triumphantly hung up the phone. She put her coat back on the chair, and turned to Mulder, saying, "Where's your bathroom?" he pointed her in the direction of his diminutive bathroom, and then headed for the kitchen. He began making coffee, in hopes of getting rid of the headache that he knew was starting to form. He rubbed the knot at the base of his skull which was the signal of the starting of a beastly headache. Dana entered the kitchen looking a little pale. Mulder turned to her with concern, saying,
"Are you alright?"
"I usually hold my liquor well, but I'm not feeling so hot," she said, holding her head. Mulder moved to the refrigerator, and pulled out a can of ginger ale. He opened it, poured some in a glass, and handed it to Dana, who thanked him after accepting the glass by promptly throwing up all over his shoes.
An hour later when Dana was sitting on Fox's couch, in one of his old shirts and her skirt, wrapped in a blanket with a cool compress on her head and a bucket at her feet, she was still apologizing profusely.
"No, really, I feel terrible. I felt a little woozy, and then it just...came out of me," she said, her cheeks red with embarrassment. He smiled at her.
"Sadly, that's not the first time I've been thrown up on. In college, I was often the target of alcohol induced vomit," he said, laughing.
"You were a partier in college, then?" she asked.
"Well, I wasn't as much as my roommates were," he said, laughing. "But I did get in my good share of hangovers. What about you? You don't seem much like the partying type," he said, turning to her. She took a sip of her ginger ale, and said,
"No, I wasn't big into partying. Mostly because I knew that my parents would kill me if I screwed up in med school and had to retake a course. They were already paying a ton of money for my college education anyways, and I didn't dare get hung over and miss an exam, or a class for that matter," she said, laughing. "I didn't really live until I got married. Daniel was my Med School teacher, one of my professors, and he helped me out with my studying so I could go out and have fun. So what is it that you do?"
"I'm in the FBI," he said humbly. Dana was more interested than he could have expected.
"Really?! I thought about being in the FBI for a while, but Daniel and my family protested, and I consented and continued with my medical school. So tell me all about yourself," she said, settling down into the couch.
Mulder launched into his life story, which seemed a little odd to Dana, but she listened, totally enthralled as he described the many things he had seen, and done. The two talked into the hours of the early morning. Dana laid down to go to sleep at 3:00, but found that she couldn't sleep.
After a half an hour had passed, she ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water. She paused when she passed Mulder sound asleep on the couch. Dana had forgotten about the glass of water she'd wanted when she covered him with the blanket that had been lying across the back of the couch. She hurried back to his bedroom and pulled the blanket and pillow she had been using, out to the living room. She sat in the chair across the room from him, and situated herself comfortably. She propped her elbow up on the edge of the chair, and with a smile on her face she watched Mulder sleep, realizing for the first time how attracted she was to him. She studied his sleeping face, and the expression of calm that took him over at night. Dana found herself almost lovingly studying his strong features; his beautiful chocolate brown hair, his eyes which in some light were green, in others they looked blue, and his prominent nose and chin, and his gorgeous, soft-looking lips. As she fell asleep watching him sleep, Dana asked herself,
'Is this right? I just lost my husband. Should I be grieving more than this?' she consoled herself saying, 'But we had been growing apart for quite some time. Even Daniel wanted out, and my parents wanted the same so the two of us would be happy, even if that meant being apart.' She yawned, and mumbled to herself, 'The vows did say, 'Until death do you part'.' She drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
She awoke hours later to Mulder gently shaking her shoulder.
"Morning," he said, handing her cell phone to her as it rang obnoxiously.
"What time is it?" she asked before answering it. Mulder looked at his watch,
"9:15." she looked slightly surprised, but didn't seem concerned. She answered her phone, saying,
"Dr. Watterston speaking. Oh, hi Mom. I slept fine. Yeah, I'll be home in about an hour. I'm at the garage right now having new tires put on and they're checking the engine for me. And if I'm not back in an hour, I'll be home as soon as possible, ok? Love you too, bye," she said, hanging up the phone. Mulder felt the undeniable attraction he had for Dana more strongly than ever this morning, but he couldn't help asking himself, 'Does she feel the same way? Even a tiny bit?' He shook himself as she yawned rising slowly from the armchair. His curiosity had been tugging at him since he had awoken at 7:45 and found Dana sound asleep across the living room from him, wearing only his shirt, her bare feet with painted pink toe nails barely visible under his heavy bedspread. Her red hair was slightly puffy, and she looked almost too pale in the morning light that shone through his window, but she was still beautiful to him. He couldn't resist asking any longer, however, and said,
"Umm, Dana, how exactly did you wind up sleeping in the most uncomfortable chair ever manufactured in the history of man?" She laughed, bending and twisting until Mulder heard a series of pops, snaps and cracks as Dana popped nearly every bone in her body. He winced, and she laughed again, and then apologized.
"Sorry about that; it's a nasty little habit I've developed. But anyways, back to the chair thing. Well, I found that after we agreed to stop talking and actually sleep, my recurring insomnia set in. I guess it comes from working all those twenty-four hour shifts at the hospital. Well, anyways, I decided that maybe the fact that I couldn't sleep stemmed from the fact that I haven't had to sleep in a room by myself for five years. I didn't want to wake you, so I came out and opted to sleep in the chair, rather than the floor, which, at this point in time is seeming like the wrong decision," she said, grinning as she cracked her neck again. Mulder smiled at her, feeling no need to reply verbally, and simply left the room and returned with two cups of black coffee.
Having left the blanket and pillow on the chair, Dana sat down on Mulder's couch, and folded her legs beneath her. Mulder sat down as well, a comfortable distance from his guest. The two talked over coffee, each studying the other, feeling the mutual attraction. After they had drunk the last drops of their coffee, Dana wordlessly took his cup and stood, bringing them to his kitchen and without hesitation, washing them in the sink. She put them in the small drying rack which sat to the right of the sink on the crowded counter.
"Now, you didn't have to do that," Mulder said, standing closely to her.
"Please, Mulder, it was the least I could do. For God's sake, you met me in a bar, and not only was I overly hostile toward you, but I acted like a total ass, and then you pay for my cab, and let me, a total stranger you met in a bar, spend the night at your apartment, and offer me your bed, your clothes, and your coffee, no questions asked. Washing a couple of coffee mugs is the least I can do to repay you," she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He pulled back, surprised, but then said,
"Well, that helps too." She looked up at him, seriousness in her eyes, which, he noted, were a brilliant blue, and she said,
"No, really, what can I do to repay you for your kindness?" He thought on it for a moment, and she followed him as he paced through the apartment and into his bedroom, opening the door to his closet. He pulled out a gray tee shirt, navy blue sweatshirt, and blue jeans, all the while contemplating her question. Knowing that Dana was in the room, but not hesitating to remove his shirt, he spun around to face her quickly when the answer came to him.
"Let me take you out to dinner," he said, taking her hands and grinning wildly at her. Dana was taken aback.
"You're-you're asking me out on a date?" she said, to the tune of statement rather than question. "I haven't been on a date in... well, forever, and how is your taking me out to dinner, and once again spending your money on me going to repay you for yesterday and this morning?" He didn't hesitate before responding,
"Our spending time together is payment enough." Dana felt, to her surprise, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
"That was the first genuine thing I've heard anyone say in a long time," she said, taking his hand, "and the answer is yes. Here is my number, call me later with the details." She hurried into the other room, and dressed quickly, pulling her wrinkled skirt and blouse from the floor where they had been lying in a heap. She didn't bother with her nylons; she had, in fact, in all her excitement, forgotten that she had worn any. She said goodbye to Fox, and handed him her business card from her coat pocket, and kissed him, once again, on the cheek before practically running out the door, eager, for the first time in a great while, to get home.
Margaret Scully sensed the difference in her daughter as soon as she walked through the door. The fact that it had been just above freezing all morning, and Dana wasn't dressed for the weather apparently had not even bothered her.
"Morning, Mom," Dana said cheerily, removing her coat and handing it by the door.
"You seem awfully happy for someone who undoubtedly just paid a great deal of money to have three new tires put on her car and the engine checked," Margaret said, giving her daughter an "all-knowing" look which all mothers possess.