#conversation series
or the Wee Hours of the Morning….
-SEVENTEEN-
msr | nighttime | words: 790
He holds his wife in his arms and tries harder, “I really think we should.”
Scully gives out a little sigh. “Mulder, of all the times we’ve spent in the woods, it surprises me that you still consider that to be fun. You know, sometimes I worry about you and your definition of fun.”
“But the Gunmen says it’ll be rad. Gibbs’ got a really good deal on this camper, complete with an oven, a grill, a huge refrigerator, and an indoor shower! We can star-gaze! Cricket will love it. None of the kids have been camping, really. Can you believe that?”
Scully wonders why Mulder would equate having the amenities of a camper with indoor shower as camping.
“Mulder…” with her hands, she gently squeezes her husband’s cheeks together, “I think we need some more friends our age.”
Mulder looks at her, feigning both hurt and offense, “Scully!”
“What?” She stands by her comment. “We’re in our late fifties. How old’s Gibbs?”
“Um, he was born in ‘85, ‘86?” Mulder guesses, remembering the little geeky chess prodigy they met and protected decades ago.
“And Wallace?” She mentions one of the other Gunmen, whom they first knew as Kevin, the boy showing stigmata signs.
“Wasn’t he like 11 or 12 in ‘95? So he’s a couple of years older than Gibbs.” Mulder recalls.
“And Langly’s nephew?” Scully snaps her fingers as she tries to call up his name.
“Oodles? He’s a little younger. In his early thirties.”
“Yes, and Mulder, do you have any other friends? People who are, say, had a membership at Blockbuster?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Skinner. He’s a friend. And Scott. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if neither of them had a Blockbuster membership back in the days.”
“Do you have any other friends?” She says as if she’s already won this argument.
“Hey, Miss Popularity, what about your friends?” Mulder retorts.
“I don’t have any, because my insanely jealous husband is just too weird.” Scully deadpans.
“There’s your answer to why I don’t have many friends.” Mulder says with his arms opened wide, “you must be this weird to be my friend.”
“Wow, thanks Bubba.” Scully pokes his belly and he winces away, dodging from more attacks.
“You know, in a way, I’m kinda the boys’ age.” He says after grabbing a hold of her arms.
She arches her eyebrows, waiting for further explanation.
“Think of it this way: I can honestly say that I got a new life when I met you, and that was 1993. So that actually makes me a good seven years younger than Gibbs. “
Scully bites her lips, smiling: “Yeah, and by that calculation, you became the world’s youngest dad at…eight years old!”
Mulder doesn’t respond, which gives her time to thinks about his words. In a way, it’s true that the first 30 years of her life seem so foreign, those days before working for the FBI. In fact, she did feel reborn that night in the forest with him, in the wind and the rain, standing in the mud, leaning against each other for support. They were babies, they truly were, and nothing could prepare those two babies from what was going to happen in the following years…
“Mulder,” She begins, “do you remember that night in that forest, in the rain?”
How can he forget? Mulder shakes his head. That same forest took time away from him, time to be with her. So much time was lost because he went back to that forest.
“Yeah?”
“That first time…You looked…so young.” She says.
“You looked twelve. Cutie Ponytail.” He teases.
“You’re the one to talk, Mister Wearing-His-Cap-Backwards.”
“I did that?” Mulder sounds surprised. In that memory, all he remembers is her. Her laughs, her eyes, her muttering where are we going. They had no luggage, no laptop, and he was already wanting to trust her. Little skeptical Miss Know-It-All. His little new spy friend.
“If you were 12 in 1993, how old are you now?” He asks. Who needs simple addition skills when you’ve got a personal math geek?
“I’d be…” Scully smiles mischievously, “a little older than 12.”
“18?”
“A little older than that.” She says, and the innocence in her eyes matches her words.
“And I’m just a little older than you are.” Mulder kisses her three times, big wet sloppy kisses.
She kisses him like he is her teenage love; she feels as if she’s lived more than one lifetimes with this man.
“Let’s ditch the kids and go camping…” She whispers, suddenly excited and on board with his idea, just with a small modification.
“I knew I could get you to see it my way.”
“Oh baby, just lead the way…”
Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you!
Conversation in the Very Very Late at Night….one/two/three/four/five/six/seven/eight/nine/ten/eleven/twelve/thirteen/fourteen/fifteen/sixteen/
