He
looked up at the tap on his door. “Sir,
Angie isn’t out here. Do you have a
minute?”
Skinner
nodded and she entered, closing the door behind her.
“Have…have you heard from Agent Mulder today?”
The
question startled him; “I assumed…yes, I talked to him this morning - at 5
a.m.” He made a face then. “He said he was going up to Greenwich, to
clean out his mother’s house.”
”No.” Her shoulders drooped
slightly at that. “He shouldn’t be
. . . Sir, I would like to request some vacation time.”
Skinner
glanced away and then back toward her. “Do
you have any paperwork outstanding?”
“No,
sir. We’re caught up.”
He
ran his hand over his scalp. “I’ll
see you next Monday.”
“Thank
you, sir.” She turned back toward the
door.
“Dana.” She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned
to look at him. “If you need anything .
. . ”
She
gave him a sad smile and nodded, then let herself out.
He sat staring at the door, his thoughts far away. After a long moment he roused himself, took a deep
breath, and looked back down at the papers on his desk.
*****
She
pulled up to the house and parked. His car
was in the driveway. She just looked at the
house for a moment. She was never comfortable
here. Coming here with him as soon as she
gave him word of his mother’s death had been hard.
Coming here alone to investigate later was even harder. But by far the worst experience here was when
Mulder had been searching for answers. He’d
accused the woman of infidelity, demanding to know if she had been unfaithful to Bill
Mulder, and questioning his parentage.
She
had slapped him, hard, across the face and run upstairs.
He had just closed his eyes and taken it.
She would never forget the look on his face.
Then he had rushed out as well, stranding her there with his mother. She’d actually had to borrow the woman’s
car to chase him down and had been too late to stop him from taking another treatment from
that quack.
Scully
took a deep breath and exited the car. She
didn’t bother about her bag. She
wasn’t entirely sure she’d be welcome, but it didn’t matter.
At
the door she raised her hand to knock, but on impulse checked the knob. It was unlocked.
She opened it quietly and stepped inside, pushing away memories of this
place. She couldn’t hear anything; maybe
he was napping - if he’d been up since before five . . .
She
moved toward the room his mother had used as an office here on the ground floor and
spotted him, a drawer pulled out of the desk and spread across the small coffee table. He looked totally overwhelmed and her heart went
out to him.
“Mulder?” She spoke quietly, but he still jumped. When he focused on her she could see the relief
flood his body and then be immediately shoved aside.
“Scully? What are you doing here?”
“You
should have called me.”
“This
- “ he waved his hand at the room, “this isn’t your responsibility. You didn’t have to - “
“I
know. Would you like some company?”
He
quietly nodded, though his eyes were more welcoming.
“I’m having a hard time getting started.”
“I
would be too. What if we start someplace a
little easier? Maybe see what pieces of
furniture you might want to keep. We could
‘stack’ it off to the side.
He
managed a grin at the inside joke. It
didn’t last. “Where would I put any
furniture Scully? My apartment’s
full.”
“Yes,
for now. But you might not always live there. Are there any family pieces you might want to hold
on to?”
“Scully,
in order to have ‘family pieces’ you have to have a family.”
She
pushed aside the inherent sadness of that comment. “What
about furniture that your grandparents had? You
might want to save them for your children.”
The
look he shot her then was almost physical and she began to regret the course she had
chosen.
“Scully,
I don’t remember ever meeting my mother’s parents. If I did, I was just a baby. I know they were both gone before Samantha was
born.”
“Oh,
what about the Mulder side?”
“I
remember my Grandmother Mulder. We visited
her a couple of times a year, Christmas holidays and her birthday. She died when Samantha was about seven. She never knew about . . . Dad’s brother died
when they were kids. Scully, it’s just
not like your family.”
“I
know.”
“But,
hey if you see anything you like, I can get it for you at a great price.” He grinned now, beginning to warm up in both body
and spirit just having her here.
She
arched her eyebrow at him then, “Well, I’ll have to start appraising right
away.”
Scully
turned then to leave the room. “Where're
you going?”
“Upstairs. I thought I might start in the bedrooms, boxing up
linens, things like that. Hey, do I get to
see your bedroom?”
He
chuckled then, “Yeah. Why don’t we
start there?” He led her up the stairs.
“How
long did you live here Mulder?”
“About
four years. The divorce was final when I was
fourteen. I moved to England at eighteen and
didn’t come home very often after that.” He
dropped the subject then, and she didn’t pursue it.
She knew he hadn’t visited the States but a couple of times during his
entire college years. He’d mentioned
that before. Now she was beginning to
understand why.
He opened the door to what was obviously referred to as a ‘sewing room’. Ruffles and chintz covered the furniture. “Nice décor Mulder.”
“Thanks. And no, it did not look like this when I lived
here. I think she waited until the plane
actually left the ground to start redecorating.”
“Where’s
your stuff?”
“The
basement if she kept any of it.”
Again
she made no comment. There was no evidence
that the man had ever lived here. It was as
though she had wiped him from every surface. Why
had she burned the pictures when she decided to commit suicide? That made no sense.
She could have left Mulder something.
“Do
you have any boxes?”
“Yeah,
I got a bunch of them. They’re in the
garage. I’ll be right back.”
She
smiled and nodded, but the smile slipped away as soon as he was out of sight. How could he have lived like this? Her own family, always underfoot, rowdy, in each
other’s hair, hadn’t prepared her for this.
The damage done to this man was deep. Would
it have been different if Samantha hadn’t vanished?
Well, at least they would have had each other.
The
tear that escaped her eye surprised her and she wiped it away quickly so that he
wouldn’t see. She turned toward the bed
and began stripping it.
He
returned with an armful of collapsed moving boxes and set one up for her. He took the other end of the bedspread and
together they folded it and began packing things away.
The
room was actually sparsely furnished, no picture frames, not much bric-a-brac. They had the room dismantled in about twenty
minutes. It was Scully that opened the closet
and spotted Mrs. Mulder’s winter clothes.
“Mulder,
do you want to go through these?”
“No. Just put them in a box.” He turned away from the sight as she took an
armful of clothing and laid them across the bare mattress.
There
wasn’t even the pleasant smell of ‘Mom’ among these clothes. Scully couldn’t help but think about how she
would have to do this some day in the future - the far distant future she hoped - for her
own mother. She’d been in and out of her
mother’s closet her whole life. The
closet seemed like Maggie Scully, her perfume now permanently embedded in the fabric. Here the smell was of mothballs and age. There was nothing here to provoke a smile or even
a pleasant memory.
Scully
closed her eyes for a moment to forestall another inadvertent tear. When she opened her eyes to begin folding the
clothes she realized he was watching her.
“It’s
okay Scully.”
“Sorry. I came up here to be a help.”
“You
are. Believe me.”
She
nodded rather than speak and began taking the clothing off of the hangers.
Mulder
disassembled the bed, leaning the frame and mattress against the wall. “Well, that’s one down. Getting hungry, Scully? I could order something.”
“I
think we should go out. Just get out of the
house for a little while.”
“Okay.” Whatever she wanted; she was better at looking
after both of them anyway.
They
used her car, since it was on the street and had a late lunch at a coffee shop not far
from the house. A table of women nearly ready
to leave watched them enter and order.
Once
the waitress was gone, the four of them stood and approached Mulder. “Aren’t you Fox?”
“Uh,
yes ma’am.” He stood.
“We
were awfully sorry to hear about your mother. We
weren’t able to attend the funeral, down in North Carolina, but we wanted you to know
we are going to miss her.”
“Th-thank
you.” This was a first. There had been no mourners in North Carolina. Just the graveside service with he and Scully in
attendance.
They
turned and looked pointedly at Scully. “This
is Dana Scully, my partner.”
The
smiles grew a little tighter and the women nodded as one.
Scully lifted her hand to shake with the nearest woman and after a slight
hesitation the older woman accepted the proffered hand.
“Well,
we don’t want to disturb you, Fox. I
assume you’re here about her things. We’re
just glad we had the chance to speak.” All
of the women made polite goodbyes to Mulder and nodded to Scully, then left the
restaurant.
Mulder
looked over amused at Scully, who was trying not to show her outrage. She saw him struggling not to laugh and it did not
help her mood. “What the hell did your
mother say about me?” She whispered to
him, looking around.
“I
don’t know.”
“Mulder,
did you see the way they looked at me?”
“I
think they were jealous.”
She
actually snorted, which didn’t hurt his amusement at all. “I never did anything to your mother.”
“Scully,
if it helps, neither did I, except be born.” He
shrugged.
That
brought her to a standstill. He was right; it
didn’t matter. The woman was dead; Tina
had spent her life being just like this. She
was here to support Mulder and that was the bottom line.
She reached out and took his hand. “Skinner
gave me the whole week, same as you. Why
don’t we finish this up as quickly as we can and maybe have some time left
over?”
“Um,
what did you have in mind, Agent Scully?”
“I’ll
think of something.”
Before
he could respond, the food was served and he ate with a lot more enthusiasm than he had
expected. She smiled, seeing him enjoy the
food. She was very glad she had come.
*****
Everything
upstairs had been packed up with the major exception of his mother's bedroom. They had made a conscious decision to hold that
until tomorrow morning when they were fresh.
“Where
are you staying Mulder?”
“Oh,
I…I hadn’t thought about it. I
guess I was going to sleep on the couch downstairs.”
She
shook her head. “No. It’s not that late, let’s go find a
motel and maybe watch a movie or something. Not
here.”
He
nodded, more than ready to leave this place.
“Where’s
your stuff?”
“Still
in the car.”
“Mine
too. Let’s take my car. That way the neighbors will see me leave and not
worry about your virtue.”
“Damn
Scully, couldn’t you let me have just a little bit of a reputation? Other than the one I have in DC, that is.”
“Dream
on Agent. Come on, I’d like a shower
before dinner.” She held up her finger
to forestall the comment she saw coming.
After
loading his things into her trunk, he drove her car to a motel close by and checked them
in. He talked her into having a pizza
delivered while she showered.
He’d
changed as well when she knocked on the door of his room a little while later. He grinned down at her, her damp hair was pulled
back, and tendrils had started to curl around her face.
He liked the curl, but she always seemed to want to straighten it for work.
“Pizza
here yet?” She padded in, barefoot,
wearing a spaghetti strap t-shirt and jogging pants.
“Yeah. You’re just in time to not have to pay.”
She
grinned. “I thought I was going to have
to wait forever until I heard him leave.”
He
tried to glare at her, but it didn’t work. She
plopped down on the bed, Indian-style and opened the box.
“No mushrooms?”
“I
paid, I ordered.” He took the largest
slice and seated himself on the other side of the box.
They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, then she turned toward the
TV.
"What
did you decide on?"
"I
forgot to look." He reached for the
remote. After some friendly bickering while
they flipped through the available channels, they decided on Caddy Shack once again. They settled back against the headboard.
*****
She
woke with a gasp the next morning, his body surrounding hers, "Oh my god."
That
brought him awake and his arms involuntarily tightened around her as he realized what was
going on. "Shit. Scully, I'm sorry.
Look, we're both still dressed and . . . "
That
caused her to glance down and her face grew warm. That
had to be painful.
"Scully,
please, I am sorry."
"You
have nothing to apologize for. This is your
room. I'll, uh, I'll see you in a little
while."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll come get you for breakfast."
She
nodded and kept her back to him. Looking at
him right now would be a very negative thing. She
opened the door and let herself out.
The
shower gave her too much time to think about waking up this morning. She'd only had a couple of beers, and yes she had
worked hard, but how the hell could she have just fallen asleep in the man's arms? And what was she going to say to him when she saw
him?
She
was dressed in jeans and t-shirt when he knocked. She
took a deep breath and opened the door.
He
stood there, grinning a little sheepishly. "Morning,
Agent Scully. Sleep okay?" His eyes were dancing now.
She
actually chuckled. "Yeah, I slept
okay."
"Just
okay?"
"Don't
push it Mulder."
He
nodded and stepped back to let her out. "Any
thoughts on breakfast?"
"I'm
for it. Especially coffee." He nodded at that.
His hand automatically came up to touch her back. As soon as he realized it, he glanced down at her
for permission.
She
smiled up at him. "No harm, no
foul." His smile grew and he turned her
toward the coffee shop next door.
*****
Once
back at the house, the mood darkened slightly, but they headed directly for Mrs. Mulder's
room. Once this was behind them, the rest of
the things in the house should be just 'things'.
Again
they stripped the bed first, then she moved into the closet to begin boxing up the clothes
and he moved to the tall dresser. He was
surprised at the items he found.
She
realized he had grown quiet and looked for him. "Mulder?"
"Yeah,
I'm here." He was seated on the bed,
looking at papers he had assembled.
"I
thought ...was that stuff in the dresser?"
"Yeah." He looked up.
"It's old, Samantha's immunization record, her report cards."
"Why
don't I get you a box?"
"There's
no need . . . I don't need to keep these things."
"Okay. But you don't have to throw them away right now. Why don't you put them aside for now? We can look through them later."
He
nodded and watched as she left the room. When
she returned, she put the information in the box and set it aside, then pulled the next
drawer open. Sweaters, okay this should be
safe enough.
"Mulder,
why don't you finish this dresser and I'll finish up the closet. We can go through the bureau together."
He
looked up, away from the box and for some reason flashed on her in his arms this morning. He felt just as safe. "That's a good idea. Thanks."
She
retreated to the closet and hurried to finish, taking a lot less care with folding the
remaining clothing. That find had thrown him,
who knew what else might be hidden in the room. Besides,
how comfortable would he be with going through his mother's lingerie?
"Scully? How're you doing?"
"I
could use another box, for the shoes. Would
you get one for me?"
"Sure,
anything to drink?"
"Yeah,
whatever you have." She heard him leave
and came out into the room. He hadn't gone
near the bureau. Apparently he felt the same
way.
When
he returned with the box, he joined her in the closet and tossed the shoes into the box as
she finished up. He seemed to want to be
beside her now, wanting her to lead the process and it was making her feel quite warm.
When
the closet was empty, he still seemed quite reluctant to move toward the bureau. "Why don't you drag that box over here,
Mulder? It's not quite full."
He
nodded, but she noticed he didn't speak. She
was watching him now. He was beginning to
break down, he seemed shaky somehow.
"Mulder,
do you want to take a break?"
"No. No, let's get this done, okay?"
She
nodded and pulled the box just a little closer. All
of these things were going to Salvation Army; they didn't have to be wrinkle free. She grabbed up a handful of lingerie and after a
quick glance to ensure there were no papers in the mix, stuffed it down in the box.
She
made very short work of these drawers, making snap decisions on items to go in the box and
into the trash. Finding no further surprises
his breathing was back to normal now; and she looked up and smiled.
She
dragged the trash out into the hall and when she returned he was seated on the bare
mattress, with his mother's jewelry box beside him.
"Mulder?"
"I
found that 'family' item you were talking about."
"What?"
"Look." He held out his hand. In it was an emerald ring with a diamond on each
side. "It was my Grandmother Mulder's. She left it to Samantha when she died. Samantha was the only granddaughter."
"It's
beautiful." She didn't attempt to touch
it, the way he was holding it, it did mean something to him.
He
looked up at her, deep into her eyes. "I'd
. . . I'd like you to have it."
He
could see the shock on her face. He'd caught
her totally off guard. "I'm not kidding
Scully. Please." He reached for her hand and slipped it on her ring
finger. It was only a tiny bit too big. "It looks good on you."
"Mulder,
I can't . . . It's too valuable."
"Not
nearly as valuable as you are."
What? What had he said?
She looked down and realized he had slipped it on her left hand. That was . . . he'd just picked the hand closest
to him, without thinking.
"Please
accept it."
"Mulder,
you should keep this. It's from your
grandmother."
"I'm
the last Mulder, Scully. I don't care about
the rest of the stuff, but I remember Samantha wearing this. It was too big, and she only got to play with it,
but she loved it. It made her feel so grown
up and . . . and pretty."
She
was speechless. He wanted her to have this? "I . . . Mulder, I'll wear your ring, but you
have to promise me that if you ever want it back, you'll tell me."
He
nodded slightly. "I won't."
After
a long moment he turned back to the box. "There's
lots of stuff here; is there anything you'd like?"
"Mulder,
I didn't come here - "
"I
know that. But the Salvation Army might not
know how to handle this."
"Mulder,
I don't know if you need the money, but you really should have this stuff appraised and
sell it, along with some of the furniture."
"I
don't know if I can deal with that." He
ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the jewelry again.
"Why
don't I make a couple of calls?"
"You
shouldn't go to the trouble."
She
rose from the bed and let a finger lightly touch his cheek.
"It's not any trouble." She
glanced over at the phone, but the phone book was downstairs. She took the box of papers from the dresser and
headed downstairs. This stuff should be with
the desk anyway.
As
she was reaching for the book, she caught sight of the ring again. What was she supposed to think of this? Well, nothing right now. Later, this wasn't something she could dwell on
right now.
*****
Cleaning Out Old Demons 2
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