#charlie and corky
The fourth series reads as follows:
Apple Balancing…Potential…The Newbies…The Dessert…Dinosaurs and Cannibalism…Sassy Sprinklepants…The Secret Vault of Mudlerness…Taco Night…Neckhole Wrestling…The Onesie…Multiplication…Catching On…Thanksgiving…The Funeral…Midnight Libations…Stockings were Hung…Mama Walter…Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Skimmer-style)…Official …Memory Lane
To catch up: First series…Second series … Third series
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After one last trek around the office, fingers running over photos tacked on the bulletin board and following up to the post-it note back on their poster. Somehow he knew and reaching up, he unpinned the thick paper, rolling it up and tucking it under his arm, “this should go up at home. How about right over the bed?”
“I was thinking maybe in Will’s room.”
“Done.”
Heading out, he switched off the lights and Scully looked up at him, surprised, “what are you doing? It’s only noon.”
“I’m hungry and don’t want to be here anymore today. How about we go dating at Mexican for lunch?”
Will kicked him absently in the thigh from his carrier, reminding them both he would also like to eat at some point. Smiling at his son, then looking at Scully, “he approves. What about you?”
“Only if we can visit Corky.”
“I don’t think we can eat Mexican anymore without visiting Corky.”
&&&&&&&&&&
They sat for two hours, Will babbling and playing, banging his tiny fists on the table and gumming little bits of vegetables and chicken. Once a semblance of quiet fell over the table, Will cleaned up and back in his carrier, sound asleep, Mulder reached across the table, playing with her pointer finger before flipping her whole hand over, tracing patterns in her palm before gripping her wrist lightly, Scully wrapping her own fingers around his, “how’re you doing?”
This time, her eyes stayed dry, “I’m okay. I do think I will probably like another job one day but at the moment, I am perfectly happy taking care of the kid/kids and the house and the shopping and the day-to-day nonsense of life.”
“Do you think you’d like to go be a doctor again or something totally different?”
Running a finger lightly up and down the light blue veins patterning his skin, pinky expertly finding the pulse point, “I have absolutely no idea … although every so often, don’t laugh, I picture myself running a donut and ice cream shop like we joke about or a bookstore like Corky.” Giving him a look that made him slide his feet across the floor and trap hers, hugging shoes with shoes, “I sometimes think that I have seen enough blood and bodies to last me at least two lifetimes and I …” dropping her eyes to the table, “I wish … I mean … I don’t want to sound like I regret things, because I don’t, but the thought of having to stand there and once again define someone’s death one organ at a time makes my stomach clench and my jaw tighten,” yawning to loosen the muscles already cramping in her chin, “and I … I will think about it again if and when I’m ready but right now, I want to be here, with you and with Will and with Thing 1 and Thing 2.” With a look of apologetic worry, “I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a date, not a requiem for my career.”
Squeezing her feet, “then how about the lamenting ends and the book buying begins? We really should have bought back the books from last time so he could sell them again.”
“Did you finish all of them?”
“About half. You?”
“I’ve got one left.”
Moving to stand and help her from the booth, he held out her coat, “so that’s why you quit. Even more time to read.”
“Shut up, Mulder.”
“Shutting up.”
&&&&&&&&&
Somehow, during their lost afternoon of bookstore prowling, Scully got to talking to Corky and after a few minutes, call across the store to Mulder, “Marco?”
From seven shelves back and one room over, where Mulder was burping Will and perusing the ‘Who do Voodoo? You do!’ section, “polo.”
“Come here a minute.”
Mulder looked at his son, “your mother beckons.” Will burped his response of ‘I heard’ and Mulder wiped a spit bubble turned drool line that came out with it, “and we never ignore your mother.” Leaving his pile of books behind, mental note of ‘voodoo’ firmly in place, he wandered to the front, “’sup, woman?”
The eyebrow she gave Mulder made Corky laugh, “that’s a fierce eyebrow, D. I like it.”
The ‘D’ made him smile, enjoying the fact that she garnered a nickname now, welcome in the store for life or longer, at least according to the sign that hung behind Corky’s head, which read, ‘Nicknames = lifetime 10% discount on Thursdays’. Handing off Will, “he ate and burped and found a book called ‘Astrophysics for Babies’. We have done well in the next room.”
“Dude, you found the ‘Science for Small Fry’ section, or, as I like to call it, ‘Bohr’s Babies’.”
He would live here if he could, but he’d keep that to himself for now. “Let me rephrase. What’s up, dear?”
Scully swatted him on the arm, “guess who was roommates with Corky here in college?”
Mulder couldn’t hazard a guess, not able to comprehend Corky existing anywhere on any plane of existence except in this store, “I have absolutely no idea.”
“Charlie.”
He would have choked had he been eating but even then, he accidently attempted to breathe in his spit and coughing until he turned blue, “our Charlie?”
Corky, having given him a bottle of ice tea from behind the counter to help with the dying thing, “yeah, man. He was great. I taught him how to grow weed on the windowsill and he drove me around on his mountain bike, even got me some of those little peg things so I could stand behind him holding his shoulders. Haven’t talked to him in a few years, though, my bad.”
“He would probably love to get together.”
Already hunting down a pencil, which was conveniently tucked behind his ear, precariously held there by cartilage bar and tight ponytail, “digits, please, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Giving him the number, Mulder returned to his browsing, mind half on the books in front of him and half on what in the world Corky could have studied in college, possiblegfr degrees he could have graduated with, and the minor fact that his brother-in-law knew how to grow pot.
The next Sunday dinner could very well wind up being epic.
Mulder finally had to haul her out the front door, having discovered her, two hours later, in the ‘Bows, Bros, and Hos’ section dedicated to all things Middle Ages, “it’s almost five. We should get out of here, get the kid home, let him run around a bit,” spinning around, “where is the kid?”
“Corky has him. They were playing with the cat a few minutes ago at the kids’ area back there.” Pointing to her left, Mulder could clearly see Corky and Will on a thick, plush rug, indeed playing with the Tortie that resided amongst the stacks, “her name is Sprocket and she is named after Spacely Space Sprockets from ‘The Jetsons’.”
“You would totally marry him, wouldn’t you?”
“Not marry but probably most definitely have a few fantasies,” giving him a completely different than the previous eyebrow raise, that raised a few things of his own, “you know how I feel about men in kilts.”
“That they should immediately take them off?”
“Indeed, Mr. Mulder.” Looking down, she shook her head, biting her lip, “you do have some very attractive knees. I think I’d like to see them under a nice, dark red tartan pattern … along with a few other things.”
He couldn’t resist kissing her, backing her against the shelf for a second before whispering, “maybe we should see if Maggie would like to do some impromptu babysitting tonight, maybe a sleepover with her youngest grandchild?”
Already well into the thought of him wearing the kilt and her crawling under it, she nodded, “why don’t I give her a call while you take all this up front?”
Mulder began collecting the stacks at her feet, adjusting himself discretely in the process, “ask politely but with just enough urgency behind it so she’ll feel guilty if she says ‘no’.”
Laughing, she pulled out her phone, “you are terrible.”
“But willing to do what it takes. You’ve got five minutes and if I catch you staring at Corky’s knees, I may not let you under my kilt later.”
&&&&&&&&&
Maggie did indeed take Will. Mulder did indeed take Scully’s Christmas red plaid tablecloth and wrap it around his waist a few times, showing off his knees and Scully did indeed see a few things Mulder had underneath.
That kitchen table really did know how to take a beating.
Every Christmas, from then on, whenever Scully pulled out that tablecloth, she first wrapped it around both her and Mulder, kissing him and telling him she loved him in a nice, Scottish brogue.
He always responded back.
