Mulder’s Fantasy
Scully sighed let her head drop to the right. Wait. What was that sensation under her cheek? It felt like. . .sand.
Her eyes snapped open and beheld the most beautiful scene she’d ever witnessed. Fine white sand spread out in front of her, dropping away towards the perfect blue ocean, which stretched as far as she could see. Sitting up, Scully let her eyes wander up towards the high cliffs surrounding the small cove she found herself in. Seabirds swirled above her, disappearing into the holes in the rock which formed their nests. Scully knew that – wherever she was – she shouldn’t be here. That wasn’t to say that she felt nervous, agitated, or worried. On the contrary, she felt wonderful; peaceful, calm and relaxed. As she moved to stand up she realised that she was dressed in her pajamas. What had she been doing? How had she gotten here? Something in her head kept telling her that it didn’t matter, but Scully couldn’t forget about it. She stood up and looked around her. Her eyes lingered over the small, tattered house that sat at the base of the rocks. It wasn’t until she turned back towards the sea that she saw him.
Little more than a splash in the water at first, he swam towards the shore. Realising instinctively who it was, Scully grabbed onto the only familiar thing in this strange place and walked towards him.
“Hey Scully.” He called out happily when he caught sight of her. As he walked out of the water Scully found herself unable to take her eyes off him. First the bare expanse of chest flecked with dark hair, followed by the bright red speedos hanging low on his hips, then the thick trunks of his legs. Emerging from the water like a Greek god, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
In an effort to distract herself, Scully tore her attention away and crossed to the towel lying on the beach near her feet. She picked it up and offered it to him. Dripping wet, he stopped a metre or so away from her.
“Thanks.” He said with a broad smile as he took the proffered towel and began dabbing at his hair. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”
Something was weird. Something in his smile was too easy. Something in his attitude was too. . .perky.
“What is this place?” Scully asked.
“Heaven.” He told her, past the towel. He pulled it aside for a moment and grinned at her. Scully smiled weakly back at him. “You should get changed, there’s some clothes in the house.” He removed the towel and indicated up the beach.
They slowly walked together towards the house.
“How did I get here?” Scully asked suddenly. “And why am I dressed like this?” Mulder smiled and spoke with mock gravity.
“You just . . . appeared.” He said in a ‘spooky’ tone. He turned away and carried on walking.
“You don’t find that odd?” Scully asked curiously.
“Why should I?” He asked, not sounding particularly interested.
“You really don’t know?” She queried incredulously. “Mulder, are you okay?” He stopped and looked down at her. Reaching out, he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I’m fine Scully. In fact, I better than fine. I’ve never felt this happy in my whole life.” He smiled and took her hand. Scully’s mind whirled. Together they walked into the house.
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Scully dressed quickly in one of the small nicely decorated – neat and not at all flouncy, just as she liked it – bedrooms in the house. Mulder had led her to the door and then gone on to the living room, bestowing a bright smile on her before he turned away. Scully sat looking into the mirror and tried to concentrate on what exactly it was that was bothering her. It was like a fleeting thought, drifting around the edges of her mind but never clear enough for her to take a firm hold of. It had something to do with Mulder. Her mind kept coming back to thoughts of wonderful holidays she had shared with her family. All the bad things which had happened to her since she had been assigned to the X Files began to fade out her memory and only images of the good times remained. Moments of companionship with Mulder began to take on more importance than they had at the time. Without thinking, she was drawn towards the living room.
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Scully walked into the open space of the living room. The room was the total reverse of Mulder’s apartment. A large window marked the opening to a wide verandah, which over looked the ocean and framed the perfect beauty of the setting sun which turned the water to flame. Scully frowned, she’d been upstairs for at least half an hour, shouldn’t the sun have set by now? Mulder smiled broadly and placed a large frosted glass of ice tea into her hand. Oddly, he seemed at home in this spacious airy room. There were obvious Mulder touches, like the fact that the room was a total mess. Plates and glasses resided on every surface, cushions had fallen from the couch onto the floor and been left there, discarded clothes were hanging over the backs of chairs. Scully pushed aside a damp towel and sat down on the couch. Mulder began picking items up and shuffling them around.
“Sorry, the place is a mess.” He remarked as he carried a pile of dirty dishes through to the kitchen. Scully frowned again, that odd feeling resurfacing. To cover it up, she took a long draught from her glass and felt refreshed as the ice cool liquid slid down her throat. She gasped and choked as something brushed against her leg. The glass fell from her grasp and the liquid became a spreading stain across the white carpet. Scully stared in horror at the small fluffy dog which leapt excitedly onto her lap.
“Down Queequag!” Mulder’s voice stated firmly from across the room but the little dog didn’t move. Mulder grinned and crossed to her, grabbing the bundle of fluff and hoisting it into the air. Playfully he pretended to throw it but put it onto the floor with a surprisingly gentle action. Scully sat frozen watching them. She remembered why she felt so strange. The painting. They were inside the painting. She had to be dreaming. How could this be? The little dog curled up on a discarded sweatshirt and settled itself for sleep. Mulder turned back to Scully and saw her stunned expression. His face immediately became concerned and he knelt down beside her, his hands closing over hers in a familiar gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asked gently and Scully looked down at him.
“Queequag’s dead.” She told him flatly. Mulder smiled softly and shook his head.
“No, not here. Not if you don’t want it to be that way.” Scully tore herself away from him and stood up. Mulder twisted around to look at her. “Scully? What’s wrong?” He was so sincere. So genuine. Scully spun back to face him.
“What’s wrong?” She asked incredulously. “Mulder can’t you see it? None of this is real!”
“It’s as real as you want it to be.” He answered her in that same soft tone. “Anything you want Scully. Absolutely anything.” He stood up and went to her. She tried to turn away but he gently grasped her shoulder and drew her back to face him. Scully’s face was tortured. “You want to talk to your sister? Just wish it and she’ll be here.” Scully’s eyes widened.
“Melissa’s dead!” She exclaimed.
“It doesn’t matter here. You can reconcile all your ghosts. You can have peace, just as I have.”
“This isn’t peace Mulder. None of it’s real!” Scully broke away from him and began pacing. “In fact, this is all just a dream. We’re not here at all. I’m just making all this up because I’m worried about you. I wanted you to be alright so much that I’m making all this up, just to make me feel better.”
“It’s real Scully. I *do* know that it was the painting that brought me here.” Scully stopped pacing at stared at him. “Then it brought you here, because I wanted you to be here.” He sighed and smiled an ironic smile. “I realised how lonely it was without you. This place *is* real, it’s not a dream.” Scully shook her head.
“I just can’t think right now.” She sighed and Mulder touched her arm.
“You should try getting some sleep. I spent days just sleeping when I got here.” A self-depreciating smile. “It was my first peaceful sleep in years.” He held her face, forcing her to look at him. “Just go with it. You can be happy here. I know you need peace as much as I do.”
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Scully lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Half her mind was convinced that she would wake up in her own bed back in her apartment. The traitorous other half kept insisting that she wanted to stay here, that Mulder was right and that they could have peace here. It was with trepidation that Dana Scully closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip into the deep sleep that she so craved.
Outside her window the sun stayed suspended in the sky and Fox Mulder walked barefoot across the fine sand. In this place he felt a sense of completeness and contentment that he had never known before and now that Scully was here everything was perfect. He’d known for months, maybe longer, that he was in love with her but the situation had never seemed right out in the real world. Mulder knew full well that he was no longer in the ‘real world’ and he knew what he was giving up to be here. Part of him was still restless, still intent on the search for the truth, but it was not difficult to clamp down on those feelings when, for the first time since Sam disappeared, he was truly happy. He’d faced his ghosts, as he had told Scully that she could do, and he’d reconciled himself. Now all he had to do was face Scully as she made her choice and he honestly didn’t know what choice she would make, or how that would affect his choices. Mulder lay down on the sand and stared up at the blacked out portion of the sky. Stars blinked at him, called to him, the truth was still out there somewhere but he’d been fighting for so long. Didn’t he deserve his shot at happiness? Didn’t he deserve peace? Didn’t Scully deserve safety?
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