From: msnsc21@yahoo.com   
      
   ok to post to newsgroup, I'll post to Gossamer and Ephemeral. Thanks!   
      
   Date: March 12, 2006   
   Title: Make it Better   
   Author: ML   
   Email: msnsc21@yahoo.com   
   Feedback: always gratefully received   
   Rating: adults only due to subject matter and certain situations   
   Ep Reference:  I'd say this occurs sometime late 3rd season,   
   after certain eps which will become clear as the story unfolds.   
   Synopsis:  M&S fight.  Then they make up.  Sort of.   
      
   Disclaimer:  (to the tune of "Copacabana" - )  His name is   
   Carter, he's the creator, but that was several years ago when   
   they used to have a show.  Now I don't own them, but he's not   
   playing, so please don't sue me for having fun, I'm not hurting   
   anyone.   
      
   Note: Happy belated birthday to Rachel.  I DP'd when giving her   
   greetings, and this is my penance.  These are the elements you   
   requested, but the story didn't turn out the way I expected.  I   
   think M&S pulled rank on me.  Hope you like it, all the same.   
   I'll list the elements at the end.   
      
   No beta, because sometimes I like to live dangerously .   
      
   ====   
      
   Make it Better   
   by ML   
      
   ~Somewhere in New Hampshire~   
      
   "If we miss our flight," Mulder said, "it will be his fault."   
      
   "If you need to blame someone, you can blame me," Scully said.   
   "I'm the one who stopped to help him."  She kept her eyes focused   
   on the road.  "Though if you really want to blame anyone, you   
   should blame yourself."   
      
   "Me?  Why?  What did I do?"   
      
   "You scared him, Mulder.  If you hadn't come up on him so suddenly,   
   he wouldn't have run.  And he wouldn't have tripped on the curb   
   and stubbed his toe."   
      
   "I had no idea that I was so scary.  All I did was come around   
   the corner --"   
      
   "--at a dead run, Mulder.  With your gun out.  How else would an   
   eight-year-old boy react to something like that?"   
      
   "I thought I heard a scream," he explained for what felt like   
   the hundredth time.  "Considering everything that's happened   
   in the past few days, it was a normal reaction."   
      
   They'd spent days in this little town, investigating something   
   the Gunmen had put them onto.  Absolutely checked out, they   
   swore.  "Manifestations out the wazzoo," was how Frohike had   
   put it, and both Langly and Byers had nodded solemnly.   
      
   He guessed what really came out of a wazzoo was swamp gas,   
   after all.  He'd be giving the boys a piece of his mind when   
   they got back to civilization.  At least it wasn't as bad as   
   the gas plant in Miller's Grove.  Neither he nor Scully was   
   covered in dung, and that had to be a plus.   
      
   Not that there weren't plenty of odd things going on in   
   the little town.  Nonetheless, they were ordinary odd   
   things -- the usual complement of town eccentrics, including   
   folks who were either excited that something might be   
   "happening" in their little town, or who resented the   
   intrusion and were mulish and uncooperative.   
      
   "It's okay, Mulder, I forgive you, and I'm sure that Derek   
   does as well,"  Scully said.  "I really think there was a   
   serious case of hero-worship starting up with him."   
      
   "With you or with me?"   
      
   "With you, of course.  Big, tall G-Man that you are."   
      
   Scully was doing her best to cheer him up, but he wasn't ready   
   to be cheered yet.  "A lot of good it does me.  He's the one   
   who got your attention.  It wasn't even bleeding."   
      
   "You should know from experience that stubbed toes hurt,   
   Mulder, bleeding or not."   
      
   He didn't reply, just chewed his lip thoughtfully.  Scully   
   glanced over at him.   
      
   "You're pouting."   
      
   "Am not," he replied automatically, unable to stop himself.   
   Sometimes something in him made it difficult to agree with   
   Scully on even the simplest things.   
      
   "You are too," she said, "and you might as well admit it.   
   You always do this when a case doesn't pan out."   
      
   "And you don't?"   
      
   "No, I'm too busy trying to make you feel better," she   
   muttered, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes   
   wide.   
      
   Mulder smoothly pulled over to the side of the road and   
   killed the engine.  "Would you care to repeat that?"  he   
   asked calmly.   
      
   She shook her head.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it.   
   It wasn't very nice."   
      
   "I don't expect nice from you," he said.  "I expect the   
   truth.  So, out with it.  What exactly did you mean by   
   that remark?"   
      
   "I thought you were worried about missing our flight,"   
   she hedged.   
      
   Mulder looked at his watch.  "Even if we broke all the   
   speed laws, we wouldn't make it.  And frankly, considering   
   our track record, I don't like the odds."  He settled back   
   in the seat, arms folded.  "And how long have you harbored   
   this deep-seated resentment toward your partner?  I'd venture   
   to say, quite a while."   
      
   Suddenly, she rounded on him.  "Maybe I have, Mulder.  Would   
   it make any difference to you one way or the other?  I don't   
   see you changing, just because I call you on it."   
      
   "I just don't see it, Scully.  I always thought that misery   
   loved company, and now I find that for you, once a case is   
   over, it's over.  Period.  You never give it another moment's   
   reflection."   
      
   "That's not fair.  And it's not what I said."   
      
   "Is it wrong to feel disappointed that something doesn't pan   
   out?"  he changed tack slightly.  He was like a dog with a   
   bone now; he wasn't going to give this up until someone got   
   his or her hand nipped.  Or slapped.  Or something.   
      
   "Of course not, Mulder, I --"   
      
   "But I'm forgetting that every case that goes nowhere is   
   another notch in your belt, right?  Something to report   
   back to your superiors."  He made his finger a gun and   
   blew the smoke from it.  "Another one bites the dust,"   
   he squealed in a very poor imitation of the song.   
      
   "You promised that you'd never bring that up again!"   
   she hissed, anger rather than regret now sparking in her   
   eyes.   
      
   "Crying foul, Agent Scully?  Are you going to complain   
   because I don't fight fair?"   
      
   It got very quiet in the car.  Also very cold.   
      
   "No," she said, suddenly very calm, and then pursed her   
   lips and turned away from him.   
      
   He shrugged and started the car again.  "Whatever."   
      
   Scully gave him the silent treatment all the way to   
   the motel, and when she came back with the keys, he   
   noticed that they were on opposite ends of the building.   
      
   Fine.  He'd just go find his own dinner, and Scully   
   could do what she liked.   
      
   In her own room, Scully fumed.  Maybe saying what she   
   did wasn't the most well-considered remark in the world,   
   no matter how often she'd thought it.  But Mulder really   
   hit below the belt with his rejoinder.   
      
   Maybe it was better this way.  They haven't been getting   
   along all that well lately, and maybe it took a blow-up   
   like this to clear the air.   
      
   Sure it did.  She heard a car peeling out of the parking   
   lot and looked out the window just in time to see Mulder   
   driving away.   
      
   x-x-x   
      
   When his phone rang in the wee hours of the morning,   
   Mulder was sure it was Scully, calling to apologize.   
      
   "Agent Mulder," Skinner's voice sounded unnaturally   
   loud in his ear.   
      
   "Yeah -- yes, Sir," he mumbled.   
      
   "I understand you're already in New Hampshire on   
   another case."   
      
   "Yes, we were on our way home but got, uh, delayed,"   
   he said, rubbing his hand over his eyes.  How did Skinner   
   know this?  Scully must have called him, of course.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)