TITLE: Impasse I: His Prelude to Arcadia AUTHOR: Denise Morgen EMAIL: meadora@hotmail.com ARCHIVE: Anywhere; just keep my name attached. SPOILERS: One Son, Agua Mala, Arcadia RATING: PG CATEGORY: MulderAngst Summary: My own little effort to redeem Mulder's sorry ass after the disgraceful way he treated Scully in One Son and a little peak into how their Arcadian assignment came about. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at a series. Not too sure how well this is gonna work, so bear with me! Visit my fanfiction, it gets lonely! http://DennysX.cjb.net Impasse I: His Prelude to Arcadia by Denise Morgen Mulder had never been claustrophobic but today the walls seemed to be closing in around him. Every where he turned there seemed to be some inanimate object crowding into his personal space. And any room that wasn't eaten up by bulky file cabinets and clunky desks was filled with his partner and her subtle perfume. God, her perfume! The soft floral fragrance wafted its way through out the office and threatened to consume his self-control and his sanity with each individual breath. It isn't always this bad, he thought, sometimes he'd go months at a time with out even acknowledging his partner was a woman. IS a woman, he corrected himself. Not that he intentionally de-feminized her, but they were both so involved in their work that for long stretches of time she would just be "Scully" to him. Loyal friend and dedicated partner would encompass so much of his view of her that beautiful woman and sensuous female would have no room to exist in his reality. But then, without warning, something innocent and obvious would slap him in the face and he would be confronted with these alternate aspects of her personality that were blatantly "Dana". And as close as he was to Scully, Dana was someone he didn't know at all. Now Scully was familiar to him. Safe. She soothed the jagged edges of his fractured psyche and provided a constant and steady facet to his existence. But Dana, on the other hand, was a wild card; an enigmatic fire that seeped into his veins and inflamed him with a slow burn until every little thing about her drove him to distraction in her presence. Mulder took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. Bad, bad, bad idea. His entire being was suddenly infused with her clean enticing fragrance. He felt like he was drowning in her silken essence, cocooned in her as securely as if he was encircled by her slender arms. The need to release his tenuous grip on restraint and merge himself with her was almost overwhelming and he had to fight to keep his body from propelling itself across the room to her side. He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly and exhaled his captive breath with a shuddering sigh. Scully heard her partner sigh and looked up at him expectantly. "Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked. Mulder jerked his head up away from his hands, startled, "Nothing's wrong. Why?" "Well, that was the third time you sighed in the last ten minutes, so either something's bothering you or you're trying to increase your lung capacity." "No, I was just thinking." Mulder hesitated a moment and then added suddenly, "In fact, I think I'll take a walk." And with that he was up and out the office door before she could protest. Scully stared after him for a moment then shrugged resignedly and attempted to turn back to her work. ********************************************************************* Mulder slumped dejectedly onto the bench in front of the Reflecting Pool. Whenever he was preoccupied or worried he always seemed to end up here. He stared at the rippling stillness of the pool and tried to will the lingering tension out of his body. Things had been so strained between him and Scully lately that he was terrified to let down his guard even a little. All it would take would be one slip and then the only good thing in his life would be gone forever. And whose fault was that? He still couldn't believe how he'd reacted over the whole Diana thing. What could he possibly have been thinking? He still couldn't believe how phenomenally lucky he'd been that she hadn't packed it up and left him right then and there. Questioning her commitment and her objectivity like that...the Gunmen had been right to throw him out after she left. His ears were still ringing from the cutting rebukes they'd tossed out at him once Scully had stalked out the door. He winced at the memory. He couldn't believe Byers even knew that kind of language and from the look on Frohike's face it's a damn good thing that none of them were armed. It was just so hard to accept. Diana had been so important to him; she'd been there right by his side at the beginning. They'd shared so much together. He just couldn't bring himself to believe she'd betray him like that. True, she'd left him to go to Europe but they'd parted amiably enough. And to believe what Scully and the others were saying was to believe that even then she'd been against him. If his judge of character was so badly off and they'd started insinuating people into his life at such an early date, how could he trust anyone around him? And that was what scared him the most. If he started questioning someone who'd been so important to him how could he stop with the past? He'd have to reevaluate every relationship in his life. Not that there were that many to begin with but the few he had were imminently precious to him. If he questioned Diana he would have to question the Lone Gunmen. He would have to question Scully. And to find that kind of betrayal in her would destroy him. So he'd chosen not to look. He turned a blind eye to their words and to the evidence that wasn't that conclusive anyway. Or so he told himself. If he'd been honest, he'd at least of admitted there was enough to be suspicious about. But instead he blatantly disregarded everything they'd told him and almost managed to lose the few friends he had and destroy the one thing he still held dear all in one stroke. After the smoke had cleared the Gunmen had been easy enough to pacify. He'd just briefed them on the whole El Rico fiasco and admitted to being a self-centered sanctimonious asshole. Not to mention treating them to cheesesteaks and parting with two shelves of movies that you couldn't rent at Blockbuster. Frohike had driven a hard bargain for forgiveness, and his video collection was definitely feeling the affects. He'd lost some of his favorite tapes in that deal. It was worth it though, to be back in the terrible trio's good graces. Scully of course, had been a different matter. As usual, for them at least, they'd just never discussed it. She never brought up why he'd been at Diana's when he called her and never asked what sort of conclusions he'd drawn from the information he'd gotten there. She just accepted the whole situation stoically and slid gracefully back into their old X-Files routine. But more and more he found himself wondering what she really thought about it. He knew that he desperately owed her an apology, but the more time went by the harder it was to bring it up. This just wasn't something he could broach at the office, but he just never seemed to catch her before she left. And it didn't help that she'd been avoiding him like the plague after working hours. When her cancer had gone into remission they'd established a pattern; two or three times a week they'd get together after work and watch a movie or get some dinner. Just to reconnect as human beings and revel in the fact that they were both still alive. He had to admit, he'd been the one to break the pattern originally but he'd tried repeatedly to get them back on track only to find that Scully was having none of it. Not that she would blatantly tell him no, but she would always have a convenient excuse why they couldn't do it tonight or why next Tuesday would be better. True, they were a lot more busy now that they had the X-Files back than they were when they were on fertilizer duty, but they'd always been able to schedule time around out of town cases and paper work before. Before Diana Fowley, that is. It all comes back to that doesn't it? Or as Scully had said it all comes down to trust. It all comes down to trust and he had abused and insulted hers. The distance between them was driving him crazy. Somehow he just couldn't seem to come up with the magic words that would heal this ragged tear in the fabric of their relationship. So, par for the course, he'd just given up and gone back to acting like a jerk. He grimaced as he remembered how vehemently he'd reacted when Dales said he owed Scully his life. God, he'd been such a child. Like he didn't KNOW that he'd be lost with out her. Been there, done that, pal. Emphatically burned that T-shirt. And he was still reeling from the soft hurt that had shown through so hesitantly on her face when she'd protested that if she hadn't realized the fresh water was the creature's weakness he'd be dead. Why was he still pushing her away? She did so much for him, why did seem like too much to ask to give her the credit she so rightfully deserved? No wonder she was still upset with him. "Is this seat taken?" A small voice asked, breaking gently into his reverie. He looked up in surprise to see Scully standing quietly beside him. He was so shocked to see her it took a minute to register that her arms were full of case files. He frowned slightly: he didn't remember having any pending cases in the in-box. Had he really been THAT out of it today? Realizing that he was being rude making her stand there holding all that stuff he scooted over and motioned for her to take a seat. Scully moved gratefully onto the bench next to him. Mulder studied her intently as she settled into her seat. There was something strange about the expression on her face that struck an unpleasant chord of premonition through him. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" He asked matter-of-factly. "Why do you say that?" She returned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Call it a hunch. So, lay it on me Scully. Why are you wandering around downtown D.C. with the contents of half a file cabinet in tow? Scully paused slightly before thrusting a bulging manila folder under his nose. "See for yourself." Mulder glanced up at her from the folder in her hand, unable to miss the small smirk playing with the corners of her mouth. He cracked open the file and began to read: multiple disappearances, no suspects, no witnesses, standard undercover, yada, yada, yada...this isn't an X-File, why were they--Holy Shit! His entire being convulsed in shock. Before he'd even realized what he was doing his head had snapped up to meet her owlish gaze. "Married?" He choked out, unable to believe the contents of the file. Scully's eyes filled with an unfamiliar twinkle as she slid closer to him and leaned towards him seductively. "In the mood to...play house, Agent Mulder?" Mulder felt the little wheels in his head spin into over time. He barely noted the sudden change of gears as Scully launched into a detailed, professional description of what they needed to do before tomorrow. Fortunately, he possessed just enough presence of mind to turn half an ear towards what she was saying before careening off on his own little tangent. What exactly was going on here? Scully never acts, well, playful like that. And why were they assigned this case? And why-- "Mulder!" Scully snapped. "Did you hear me?" He snapped his attention back to his diminutive partner with a guilty start. Obviously she'd been trying to get his attention for awhile. Time to cover. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Pick the rings up from props and book a moving van. Got it." Thank you, eidetic memory. He could tell she was perturbed with him, but fortunately instead of making an issue of it she continued. "All right, then," she said as she rose from the bench and resettled her suit coat. "I'll meet you at the airport tomorrow morning, seven sharp." Mulder grimaced a little at the way she stressed the time. Like she expects him to be late again! Last week was a total fluke. Her sudden glare brought his attention back to her words. "Don't forget to pack casual! We're supposed to be..." He could hear her sudden uncertainty and he realized that they hadn't been given a cover story yet. Hmm...what would he and Scully be if they hadn't joined the FBI? "A doctor and a research journalist?" Scully shrugged non-committally. "Works for me. I'll have background set us up." "See you tomorrow," he said as she relieved him of her share of the files and made to go. She nodded vaguely and went on her way. Mulder stared unblinking out at the water for several minutes lost in thought. Never thought he'd be able to say he was married to Scully! Mulder smiled slightly at the unexpected pleasure that shot through him on the coat tails of that thought. Hmm...dinners at home in front of the fire, waking up with her in his arms every morning and, uh, 'going to bed' with her every night. His small smile twisted into a leer. Even if it was just pretend there was just too much potential in this situation to dismiss. Scully was always so hands-off, but there's no way she could call him on it if he decided to be a little touchy-feely on this case. They were supposed to be married and all. Mulder resumed flipping aimlessly through case file when he noticed that not only had career backgrounds been neglected but they hadn't even been given cover names yet! Mulder grinned evilly as he dug into his coat pocket for his cell phone. He had a call of his own to make to background. He wondered if Scully watched much Nick at Nite. "Hey! Rider, has Scully been by to put in a background request yet? Great! No, no nothing's up. Could you do me a favor? Scrap whatever she tells you for the names and make 'em Rob and Laura, um...Petrie, yeah, Petrie. Thanks man, we still on for tonight's game? Yeah, I'll bring the ball. Tell Clayton I'm gonna kick his ass again. Alright, see ya then." Mulder turned off his phone with a flick of his wrist and returned it to his pocket. This should be interesting...