From: taffyxf@yahoo.com
Title: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Author: Taffy Northwood
E-Mail: taffyxf@yahoo.com
Rating: NC17 (now and then)
Category: AU, MSR
Archives: Just ask.
Feedback: Never in bad taste
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Skinner and any
other XF characters are on loan only.
Summary: In 1911 New York City, there were two
distinct and separate worlds: that of the very wealthy
and that of the very poor. Could love bridge the
great divide between those worlds for two star-crossed
lovers?
Author Notes: Like a huge part of the fandom, I've
become absolutely dotty over AU fic. This is my
modest attempt to put Mulder and Scully into another
time and place. Please be aware, this is a
work-in-progress.
Forgive Us Our Trespasses - Mr. and Mrs. Fox Mulder's
story - Part 23
"Mulder? Are you coming to bed?" Katie asked
gently.
Mulder sat at the desk in the library, a glass of
whiskey in one hand and a photograph in the other.
"Soon," he said, his eyes still on the picture.
"You've been so contemplative, lately. I'm
worried about you."
"I'm fine, Katie," he replied. "No need to worry."
He finally looked up, and Katie saw the weariness in
his face.
"What are you looking at?"
He turned the photograph to show her. It was "Quitting
Time," the picture he'd taken of the factory girls
leaving work on payday. Their arms were linked and
they were joyful.
"I took this outside the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory.
It was only today that I recognized the location."
"I wonder if any of them survived," Katie said.
"This was the first picture I'd ever sold. God,
that was so long ago."
"Not so long," Katie said. "I remember that day.
We went to Coney Island to celebrate."
Mulder smiled.
"We went to the moon," he said. "And then when I
came home, Skinner battered me until I saw stars."
Katie stroked his head.
"I lied to you, and you forgave me," Mulder said.
"I think, now, that they weren't really lies. When
you were with me, you believed them," Katie answered.
He seemed to flinch, then took a long drink from his
glass. Katie stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders.
She felt his bones more distinctly; she was afraid
he wasn't eating properly. Many nights, he came home
late and went right to the library, refusing any dinner.
She had assumed he was still upset about the tragedy,
but now, she wondered if something else was on his
mind.
They had talked about the fire, about the losses,
about what needed to be done. Mulder had confessed
that he'd foreseen this type of disaster, and that he
should have done more to prevent it.
Katie wondered why she found herself better able to
carry on than her husband. Perhaps she'd seen more of
death than he had, or perhaps it was because her work
let her feel she was doing something to help.
"Then I'm a fool," Mulder said.
"Never, love," Katie reassured him.
"If I believe in lies, I'm a fool or a madman."
With a sigh, Katie pulled an armchair closer to
the desk and sat down.
"I was looking for my lost sister--another lie,"
Mulder said. "She wasn't lost, she was hiding."
"Not from you, from your parents. From a
marriage she didn't want."
"And now she's leaving New York. But I'll see no
less of her than when she lived here," Mulder said.
He had acknowledged the wisdom of Sean Pendrell
establishing his Little Dynamo factory in Michigan,
but Katie knew he saw it as a final end to his hope
of bringing Samantha closer into his life.
Sitting up half the night and drinking whiskey
would only bring him more melancholy.
"I'm quite exhausted," Katie said.
Mulder moved the photograph to a corner of this desk.
"Then we must get you to bed," he said, rising at
last. "And please, love, think about what I said.
I want you to hire more nurses for the clinic."
Katie nodded sleepily. If only Mulder wasn't
forced to work such long hours. As it was,
Morris Fletcher saw more of her husband than
she did, and Miss Muir saw more of her baby.
If only hiring more nurses was as easy as Mulder
seemed to think. Katie had advertised for more
help, hoping to find a compassionate woman with
good nursing skills. It had proved a depressingly
difficult task.
She contacted nursing employment agencies, but they
were accustomed to placing nurses for special duty
with wealthy patients. The few nurses they sent
for interviews were uncomfortable working with the
poor and fled almost immediately after taking a tour
of the clinic.
Some of the candidates were well-meaning, but
lacked experience. Others had grown hard by
working with the poor. It amazed Katie that the
women who had pulled themselves out of the slums
seemed to be the least sympathetic, as if the only
way they could rise from poverty was by turning
their backs on the poor.
"Honestly, Mulder, I've tried. Shayna thinks I'm
being too finicky."
"Perhaps she's right. You'll have to settle for
someone less than perfect, because there's only one
Katie Mulder," he said.
His fingers were caressing her bottom in a manner she
would have appreciated more if she had not been so
tired.
"Would you be able to help me? I have no experience
in hiring, and you have so much," she said.
"I don't know when I would have the time. I can send
someone over to help you," he said with a sigh.
"I shouldn't have asked you."
"You know I'm shouldering DT's share, in his absence,"
Mulder reminded her.
"That's the only thing I miss about having Mr. Spender
about. While he was our constant visitor, you managed
to be home for dinner."
Some two weeks ago Mr. Xavier had delivered a cartload
of flowers to the mansion, along with the message that
Cornelius Spender would be away on business. Teena's
disappointment had been predictable. Oddly, Mulder
had greeted the news with suspicion rather than relief.
Mulder's hands stopped their play.
"What are you implying?" he asked.
Somehow her simple observation had irritated her moody
husband.
"Your mother has been lonely, since his departure. It
would be nice if you could be home more," she said.
"Did my mother complain to you that she was lonely?
That her days were empty without 'Dear Cornelius'?"
Mulder asked.
"Why, no. I only thought--"
"Then don't concern yourself with my mother's
activities."
"I...I wasn't trying to meddle," she said, placing
a gentle hand on his arm. "Mulder, is something
the matter?"
"Nothing is the matter." His muscles felt like
steel cables under her hand. "You should get to
bed."
"So should you."
"Later, love. Right now, I have some preparations
to make for a meeting in the morning."
He kissed her forehead and left before she could
protest. As Katie undressed and got ready for
bed, she puzzled over Mulder's outburst. He'd
been out of sorts for weeks, working late at
the office, sequestered in the library for hours
every evening. The glass of whiskey seemed to be
a permanent fixture in his hand.
Katie fell asleep worrying about her husband, rousing
briefly when he slid into bed beside her. When she
[continued in next message]
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)
|
