TITLE:  Fallout
SPOILER STATEMENT:  Arcadia; small ones for "Unusual Suspects",
"Travelers" and "The Host"
RATING:  PG
CONTENT STATEMENT:  M/S Married.  Mulder/Fowley (past).
CLASSIFICATION:  VRA
SUMMARY:   Post-ep for Arcadia.  Continuation of the "Making It
Personal" storyline.  Their first fight.  :(
THANKS:  To Lena, Robbie, Shannon and Sharon.
 
 

Fallout

by Brandon D. Ray
 
 

I'm trying to figure out just what's gotten into Scully these past few
days..

I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with our stay at the Falls at
Arcadia.  Just what, I don't know, because it seemed to me that things
went pretty smoothly, considering it was our first time in the field
together since last summer -- and especially considering the personal
challenge it presented to both of us.

Having to pose as husband and wife in order to conduct our investigation
of the planned community was pretty well guaranteed to present us with
problems -- especially in light of our *actual* marriage ten days ago. 
But somewhat to my surprise, we seem to have passed that test with
flying colors.

I suppose Scully's upset must have something to do with that horrible
confrontation with her mother the night before we left.  I can see Mrs.
Scully's position, of course.  Oh boy can I see it.  It must have come
as quite a shock to her to let herself into her daughter's apartment and
discover our marriage license sitting there on the desk.

But that doesn't change the fact that Scully ... my Scully ...  Dana ...
my *wife*, dammit ... was pretty badly hurt by some of the things her
mother said to her that night.  And I can understand that, too, and I
can't help feeling partly responsible for having driven a wedge between
my partner and her mother -- and probably the rest of her family, too. 
So, yeah, that's probably what's been bothering her.

Scully started giving me a hard time almost as soon as we arrived in
Arcadia -- even going so far as to heckle me about squeezing the
toothpaste wrong and leaving the toilet seat up.  By the time we got
back to DC it was no surprise to me that she didn't invite me back to
her apartment to unwind.  I may not have been married very long, but
I've had enough experience with women to know when I'm in the doghouse
-- even if I don't understand why.  It even occurred to me to wonder
whether she's going to keep our date for this afternoon -- but she
hasn't called to cancel, so I here I am, pulling into the parking lot at
the new shopping mall in Chevy Chase.

The venue was Scully's choice, but the basic concept was mine.  We've
been working on establishing a comfort zone, adjusting to the idea of
being married and all that it entails.  Most of this has taken place
either at her apartment or mine, and at the end of last weekend I had
hesitantly suggested that it was time to take the show on the road, so
to speak, and start getting used to being a couple in public.

Somewhat to my surprise, she agreed -- but then, one of Scully's
strengths is her ability to face up to reality and do whatever is
necessary.  So here we are, about to embark on our first real "date",
window shopping at the mall of all things.  As I said, it was Scully's
choice, but I don't really mind -- assuming she shows up, of course.

I park my car and make my way into the mall.  The original plan was to
come here on Saturday, but since we wound up spending the weekend
working, we rescheduled for Monday afternoon.  And I have to admit that
it's actually not too bad here, at least in terms of crowds.  All the
kids are in school, of course, and a lot of adults are at work, leaving
the place comparatively empty.

Well, almost all the kids are in school.  As I stand in the entryway a
small group of teenagers -- three boys and two girls -- push roughly
past me into the mall.  For an instant I'm tempted to go after them, and
I have visions of taking them down with a bark of, "Federal agent! 
Freeze!"  But then I have additional visions, visions which involve
explaining to Skinner why I was spending my day off using my badge and
gun to enforce truancy laws in suburban Maryland.  And so I desist.

A few minutes later, having checked the directory by the main entrance,
I find myself drifting slowly in the direction of the food court, which
is where I'm supposed to meet Scully in twenty minutes or so.  There's a
definite sameness to all of the shops I pass, despite the variety of
products they offer.  It seems so strange to me that Scully would be
drawn to a place like this.  She's so alive and vital and original,
while malls have always seemed to me to be sterile places, stamped out
of plastic and mediocrity.

Still, I remind myself, Scully must like it here, or she wouldn't have
made the suggestion.  And so I amble along, not paying much heed to the
other shoppers.  I have to admit that it's nice just to stroll along at
loose ends, not needing to be anywhere at any particular time, and not
having to watch every passerby against the possibility that he's an
enemy.  The only thing I can think of that might improve the situation
would be to have Scully with me, and she'll be here soon enough.

Maybe I'm beginning to see the point to this after all.

After a few minutes I come to a stop in front of  a jewelry store.  I
hadn't been planning this; I haven't even been consciously thinking
about the possibility of buying Scully a ring.  She seems pretty happy
with my class ring, as corny as that may sound, and I'd sort of assumed
we were going to leave it at that, at least for now.  It's not as if we
don't have plenty of *other* issues we need to settle.

However I got here, I am now standing in front of this jewelry store,
looking in the window and trying to get up the nerve to go inside.

And I'm having a sudden flashback to the last time I visited a jewelry
store with this purpose in mind.  It was in early 1989, and Diana was
with me that time, of course.  We spent a pleasant afternoon hitting
every jewelry store in Georgetown that we could find.  We finally
settled on a pair of simple gold bands, then went out to dinner before
going back to my place to celebrate.

I can barely remember being that person.  Diana and I had been together
for nearly three years at that point, and we thought we were ready to
make the commitment.  Practical obstacles kept getting in the way, and
we never did set a date, but we wore the rings as a sort of promise --
right up until the day she left for Europe, more than a year later.

I even continued wearing mine for several months after that.  I assumed
she was coming back, of course; she never did quite explain how she got
that assignment, but she promised me that it was temporary, and that
when she came back we would finally finish what we'd started.  I
believed her, of course, and I still think she was sincere about her
intentions.

Then her letters stopped coming.

I shake my head and try to force the memories away -- and it occurs to
me that my relationship with Diana is probably not the most suitable or
constructive topic for reflection under the present circumstances.  It
is, of course, one of the most important sore points still remaining
between Scully and me, and although I know we're going to have to deal
with it at some point, I don't think today is the best day for it. 
Besides, we're supposed to be having fun this afternoon.

"Is this spot taken?"

I can't help but smile at the familiar words, and I turn to see Scully
standing beside and a little behind me.  She smiles back, and takes my
hand, and there's hardly any awkwardness at all as she leans up and
kisses me briefly.

I guess maybe I'm forgiven for whatever transgressions I may have
committed.  I suppose I should be grateful for that, but I'd still like
to know what I did.

"Actually, it is," I say, once my mouth is free.  "It has been for
awhile."  That elicits another smile.  "And the woman who's taken it --
she sometimes experiences violent impulses."

"Well, I'm armed, so I'll take my chances," she replies, and at this
point we're both grinning like idiots, so I kiss her again.

Finally we break the clench, and Scully raises an eyebrow and nods at
the jewelry store window.  She doesn't even have to say anything; I can
see the question in her eyes, and suddenly I'm nervous all over again. 
There's something in her manner that isn't quite right, despite her
apparently outgoing mood.

"Well, you said window shopping," I point out, trying to keep the unease
from my voice.  "This is a window.  I was shopping."

She studies my face for a moment, and if I wasn't sure before, I am
now.  Something's wrong.  For just an instant she looks as if she wants
to say something in response to my comment, but then she just snorts
softly and tugs on my hand, leading me away from the jewelry store and
on in the direction of the food court.  "Come on, Mulder," she says. 
"I'm hungry."

As we stand in line at Taco Bell I spend a few minutes pondering the
situation.  The only things clear about it are that Scully is upset
about something, and that she has deflected me from considering buying
wedding rings.  *Why* she did so is a mystery.  Does she not need a
ring?  Does she not want to spend the money on something we couldn't
wear most of the time anyway?  Or is there some other thread of Scully
logic that I'm just completely failing to see?

Is she having second thoughts about the whole marriage?

I don't know where the hell *that* idea came from, but I instantly
reject it.  Whatever else may be wrong, I know that can't be true. 
Scully wouldn't do that to me.  She wouldn't jump into something like
this if she wasn't absolutely sure it was what she wanted, and it would
take more than a few days of stupidity from me -- from her husband -- to
make her decide she wanted out.

God, I hope that's true.

Suddenly I feel very claustrophobic and oppressed.  I don't know where
all these people came from; the rest of the mall is almost deserted, but
the food court is actually crowded.  They couldn't all have come here
just to eat, could they?  Eventually we reach the front of the line and
place our orders, and a few minutes later we're making our way through
the knot of people and sliding into seats at one of the ridiculously
small tables.

For a few minutes we both concentrate on our food.  Scully doesn't talk
much when she's eating, and in this instance that's fine with me,
because it gives me a little time to collect my thoughts.

Not very much time, as it turns out.  She eats about half of her
burrito, then sets it down with a sigh and catches my eye -- and I've
already been married long enough to know what *that* means, so I swallow
the bite I'm working on, and push the tray a little to one side. 
Clearing the decks for action, so to speak.

"Mulder, why did we get married?"

Oh my god.  She *is* having second thoughts.  I feel as if I've just
been pitched headfirst into a bucket of ice water, and I am suddenly
acutely aware of exactly how easy it would be to have this marriage
annulled and just walk away from it.

I've got to find a way to talk her out of this.  Unfortunately, the only
thing I can think of to say is, "W-why?  I thought you wanted to get
married."

She nods slightly.  "I did.  I do.  I'm very happy with my decision." 
Before I can even breathe a sigh of relief, she goes on, "But that's not
an 'us' answer, Mulder.  That's a 'me' answer.  If the only reason we
got married was because I wanted to, that's not good enough."

I can't think of anything to say to that.  I'll admit, if only to
myself, that I didn't expect her to take me seriously when I suggested
we get married, that night in my apartment.  But that doesn't mean I was
insincere when I took those vows, does it?

Does it?

But Scully isn't giving me much time for introspection today.  "Mulder,"
she says, "why did you act the way you did in Arcadia?"

"I -- I don't understand, Scully.  How did I act?"

She stares at me in apparent disbelief for a pair of minutes, and if my
stomach hadn't already sunk through the floor it would now be doing so. 
"Scully?  I say quietly, "I really don't understand.  Help me out here."

She shakes her head slowly.  "You really don't know?"  I know better
than to answer that question; instead, I just wait.  Finally she says,
"Mulder, you were ... " Her voice trails off, and she seems to be
struggling to find the words -- and suddenly there are unshed tears in
her eyes.  I want to reach out and wipe them away, but something tells
me touching her at this point would be a bad idea.  So I continue to wait.

Finally it all comes out at once:  "Mulder, you were treating the whole
thing as if it were a joke.  You were treating *me* as a joke.  And I
had to stand there and take it, and play the part of the happy housewife
for the sake of our cover.  While *you* were mugging around and making a
fool out of me."

"Scully, I never intended --"

"No, Mulder," she snaps.  "No, you never do intend to, do you?  You
never intend to ditch me, you never intend to ignore my advice or
embarrass me, you never intend to -- " her eyes widen slightly as if she
hadn't realized what she was about to say " -- hurt my feelings."

Her words hang between us for an extended moment, and I'm just beginning
to realize that I'm supposed to say something -- an apology, maybe --
when she speaks again.

"I think I need some time to myself," she says, rising quietly to her
feet.  She turns to go, but she's only gone a few steps before she turns
back again, and now I see she's got her hand resting lightly on her
chest, right at the spot where the ring I gave her hangs beneath her
blouse.

"This wasn't a mistake, Mulder," she says quietly.  "Arcadia was just a
little too much, too soon, and I  ... I need some time.  I'll see you
tomorrow at work, okay?"  I nod dumbly, and she forces a little smile. 
Then she turns away again and threads her way through the crowd of
strangers.  Away from me.

And I just sit there at the table watching her go.

I think this is going to be a long night.
 

Fini