From: akelleynolan@yahoo.com   
      
   TITLE:  Frohike's List   
   AUTHOR:  A. Kelley Nolan   
   EMAIL:  akelleynolan@yahoo.com   
   DISTRIBUTION:  I'll take care of Gossamer and Ephemeral.  Anywhere   
   else would tickle me to pieces.  Just let me know.   
      
   RATING:  R for language   
   CATEGORIES:  VR   
   KEYWORDS:  Mulder/Scully romance, Frohike POV   
   SPOILERS:  None   
      
   SUMMARY:  You can't fool Frohike.   
      
   Disclaimer:  Everybody in this belongs to somebody else.   
      
   *********************   
      
   In the end, it wasn't really surprising that Frohike was the first to   
   find them out. He kept a closer eye on Scully than anybody except   
   Mulder, and so he'd noticed when something was different. Of course,   
   when neither one of them would talk, he wished he'd noticed a lot   
   sooner. He'd seen them. He should have spotted it. But to be fair to   
   himself, he hadn't seen them together, and that was the whole key to   
   catching their vibe. Mulder on his own could be paranormally cool, and   
   the enigma that was Scully could only exist in a vacuum of Mulderless   
   space.   
      
   When he saw them together, for the first time in weeks, he knew right   
   away that something was up. It was subtle, like a tiny wobble in a   
   planetary orbit that tells you there's a fucking huge black hole   
   around. Eyes narrowed, he watched them closely for signs of crisis,   
   running down his mental checklist of expected behaviors.   
      
   Cold inflexibility in either party? Negative. That was a relief. These   
   encounters were exhausting for everybody when they were like that. He   
   could remember times when they couldn't even look at each other and   
   just stood wrapped in blankets of glass, so that everybody else in the   
   room was afraid they would shatter if you brushed against them too   
   hard. When it was only one of them, it was even worse. When a hot   
   glint came into Scully's eyes and her jaw tightened and Mulder's   
   desperation filled the room like the scent of fear. When Mulder leaned   
   back against a counter, like he was lounging, but his hands gripping   
   the edge and his eyes looking anywhere but her as she sought his gaze   
   again and again, and a black hint of violence coiled in him like a   
   spring. Those were bad times they hadn't seen in a while, and he hoped   
   they wouldn't see again. It was like watching people fuck, and not in   
   a good way.   
      
   Incessant cajoling and/or denial? Not this time, and that was a little   
   weird. He watched them a minute, their heads bent together in a quiet,   
   earnest conversation. They seemed to be on the same page on this one.   
   Not even disagreeing about the why, just discussing the how. It wasn't   
   totally out of left field, but it was just barely within the   
   tolerances, as far as his mental list went. He planted a little red   
   flag on that fact and moved on.   
      
   Total disregard for personal space? Check. As always, except in the   
   really bad times, Mulder stood so close to her you'd think he grew up   
   in Mumbai rather than Martha's Vineyard, and his head was bent down   
   toward hers so that their faces were only inches apart as they spoke.   
   How the hell did they do that? he wondered. Apart from giving them   
   both a crick in the neck, they weren't even far enough apart to focus   
   on each other's faces. Why didn't their eyes dart back and forth like   
   they were chasing fireflies? And didn't they get tired of breathing   
   each other's used breath? Apparently not. He indulged in a little   
   fantasy of Scully puffs against his skin, but quickly shook himself   
   out of it to pursue the what-is-upness at hand.   
      
   Mulder touching her way too goddamn much? Check. They had walked in   
   the door with his hand on her back, and as he made points or tried to   
   get her attention he touched her arm, her shoulder. He even tucked her   
   hair back behind her ear, almost absently, when it fell forward as she   
   was peering through a microscope. Frohike's breath stuck in his throat   
   at that one. To be allowed to touch her with impunity would be   
   incredible enough, but to actually feel that lovely coppery hair -   
   which Mulder couldn't even properly appreciate with his freaky color   
   blind eyes, damn it - would be like a benediction from the Blessed   
   Virgin...well, from the Blessed Scully, anyway. He wondered if she'd   
   let him get away with it if he was taller, or if he looked that good   
   in Armani.   
      
   Possessive eye behavior? Check. Mulder always silently checked with   
   her when he heard something new or before he said something. He didn't   
   stare at her as much as he used to. Back in the early days, his eyes   
   would follow her everywhere she went, sometimes with an expression of   
   naked longing in them. Now he mostly indulged himself when he knew she   
   was looking, letting his eyes linger on her like they were sharing a   
   secret.  Frohike figured that by now he knew exactly where she was in   
   space at any given moment, a sort of very specific, Scully-based   
   clairvoyance.  Scully hadn't kicked the habit, hadn't ever even tried,   
   as far as he could tell.  He watched her gaze follow Mulder as he   
   moved across the room, appraisingly, appreciatively.  She had always   
   done that, and he wondered if Mulder was even aware of it.  He was   
   pretty sure if he was being checked out by Scully, every hair - and   
   everything else - on his body would be at attention.   
      
   Frohike was stumped.  Everything seemed to be as close to normal as   
   these two ever were.  They weren't doing anything overtly weird, but   
   the vibe was off.  He could feel that wobble in the air.  So where was   
   the damn black hole?   
      
   He sat back to watch for a while.  He figured Scully would give him   
   the clue he needed.  He'd studied her.  He knew her face, knew her   
   body language.  He knew Mulder's much better, and it was much more   
   obvious, but Mulder wasn't easy to predict around Scully.  Scully had   
   spent years maintaining her composure around her partner, at least   
   when Frohike could see it, but she'd let the act slip quite a bit in   
   the last year or so.  She wasn't exactly loose, but she wasn't   
   guarded, either, and when she wasn't guarded she was an open book.  He   
   could understand why she'd watched herself so closely all those years.   
      
   He mentally took out a pencil to add some more tidbits to the list.   
   While Byers and Langly were working on some geek shit, Mulder and   
   Scully were off to one side, and it didn't look like they were talking   
   about satellite vectors.  Their voices were low, inaudible to anyone   
   else.  Of course, it was all being picked up by the ambient mic, and   
   they'd certainly listen to it later, but for now he had to make do   
   with the visual.  No closed captioning needed to tell it was a private   
   conversation.  Red alert!  What the fuck was this?  Mulder's   
   expression was (for him) animated.  Did he just wiggle his eyebrows?   
   Scully flashed him a smile that was totally devoid of teasing or   
   sarcasm or weariness, something Frohike'd seen her do maybe once.  He   
   had no doubt she did it, but he really wasn't in a position to see   
   her...what was this?  Happy?  That's certainly what it looked like.   
   He started to get an inkling.   
      
   Byers rushed over with some techno coolness to show them.  He pushed   
   it across the table toward them, and Mulder and Scully turned away   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)