Title: Poor Queequeg
to Quagmire challenge
at After the Fact
Spoilers: Well, Quagmire.
Disclaimer: Mulder is mine. MUHAHAHA
Mulder is not mine. Scully is not mine, heck, Queequeg ain't even mine. All belong to...you know who, they guy who offed
the Gunmen and FOX who let him do it.
Summary: Conversation back at the motel about Scully's poor pooch.
-Heuvelman's Lake Cabins
Mulder turned off the shower. His hands had stopped shaking, thankfully, not long after stripping his muddy clothes.
He wrapped a towel around his hips and stood in front of the mirror. Wiping the steam, he had to smile. After
all the unique and interesting ways he could meet his death, he almost met the grim reaper via an alligator.It wasn't even
Big Blue. Just your typical run of the mill misplaced alligator. And, to top it all off, he didn't find the ordinary
alligator before it ate Scully's dog.
Now, he had to admit to himself, that of all the things that alligator ate, Queequeg was probably Mulder's favorite choice.
It was no secret that he was not particularly fond of the little ankle biter. But the little ankle biter belonged to
Scully, and for some reason unfathomable to him, she liked that dog. Worse, he knew she was going to blame him.
Scully stood outside Mulder's door, taking a deep breath before she knocked. She had the hell scared out of her
when Mulder was attacked. She just wanted to make sure he didn't suffer any injuries he didn't admit to at the time.
She knocked on the door, shaking her head. She was a fool, and the worst part was she knew it and didn't do anything
about it. She was going to Mulder's room not to check for injuries, she was going to see him. Just, see him, be near
him. She was a fool. She already said that, didn't she? After all, only a fool would be worrying about the man
that caused the demise of her pet.
"Scully? Something wrong?" He answered the door in sweatpants. That was it. Oh geeze. She was
not only a fool, she was a fool in damp drawers.
"Uh, no Mulder, nothings wrong. I just wanted to make sure you're okay." That was it, she was going back
to her room to get a grip on herself. This yammering in the doorway of a devastatingly sexy, half dressed man had to
cease and desist.
"Come on in." He leaned back to allow her access. He had to admit, almost being eaten by an alligator had its advantages.
Maybe she would be so concerned for his well being, she would forget that he got her dog murdered.
She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He made himself comfortable on the opposite corner.
"You sure you're okay, Mulder? You came pretty close to getting your peg leg wish."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Not even so much as one hook. How about you? No ill effects from our boating tragedy?"
Scully laughed quietly.
"It wasn't the sinking of the Titanic, Mulder, I'm fine. Too bad Queequeg didn't fare as well. You
know, I'm going to miss that ball of fur."
"I never pictured you as much of a dog person." So far, so good, she hadn't screamed 'Murderer' at him yet.
"They are a lot of work, and it's hard to find the time with our schedule, but he was company, you know? Late at night
when I couldn't sleep, he'd jump up on the sofa with me and I wouldn't feel so alone. Even if I was just reading, he was another
presence." Mulder reached across the bed to squeeze her hand.
"Poor Queequeg." Mulder murmured. "I really am sorry, Scully, I know it didn't come across as real sincere
earlier, but I would never want to make you sad." He scooted toward her on the bed, her head dropped on his shoulder
as they sat side by side. Hand still entwined.
"Thanks, Mulder. I know you did mean for my dog to end up on the menu. I won't even point out that if you
would have a day, I might have gotten a sitter and thereby changing the menu." She smiled against his shoulder.
"Thanks for not pointing that out."
"Ahh Mulder. No creature is safe in our wake." She stretched her neck up, grazing his neck with her nose
and inhaled. He smelled like heaven, like home.
She felt her inhibitions melt away. If only for a few magical moments.
"You know, late at night when you can't sleep, you can call me. I'll keep you company. You do it for me often
"Phone company just isn't the same. Maybe I'll get a cat." His free hand was stroking her back, making small maddening
circles in the center, then traveling to the nape of her neck and back down. He was surprised she was allowing this
much contact, and he was grateful for the chance. It was so unlike her to accept the contact.
Maybe I could come over and keep you company in person."
"Like fraternize in the middle of the night?"
"If you want to call it that."
"I'll admit it has possibilities."
"Lots, and lots of possibilities Scully." She couldn't see his face from the underside of his chin she was nuzzling,
but she was certain that his eyebrows were doing their suggestive wag.
"You're on, Mulder. Next time I can't sleep, I'll call you. After all, who knows what would happen to a cat
if it lived in our lives. That would just be cruel."
"Ha ha, Scully."