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Title: The Ratling: 03 Bad Coffee Summary: Scully is pregnant with Krycek's baby, and Mulder is pissed. Note: I've been so encouraged to continue from Part 2 (snerk) that I've decided to try and bash out #3. I'm thinking as I type; a new method for me, so please be forewarned of spelling mistakes and incoherent sentences. I've decided to call this series "The Ratling" Dedication: To Cici, may your life never be the same. The lab may lose its leader, but the rat always remains. Mwa ha ha... Here goes. Dana Scully sat in a hard chair, drinking coffee brewed long ago. "Why?" She raised the familiar eyebrow at her partner. Fox Mulder stared down at her incredulously. "Why what?" she asked definitely, glaring into her styrofoam cup. "Why are you sitting here waiting to hear if Krycek, of all vermin, is going to survive a gunshot wound, which you inspected yourself and know that he will anyway?" "Because," she replied, not looking at him. "Because," he mocked her. "Because why?" She stared at the dingy brown liquid, wishing she could see through it to the bottom. She needed some sort of clarity, and if seeing styrofoam through old coffee was a simple substitute, it was one she needed. A tiny, meaningless, stupid miracle; something to take her mind off of feelings she could not identify. "He saved my life, Mulder." He snorted and leaned on one arm against a vending machine. "Please. He was probably there to kill you, leading you somewhere dark and dank where no one could hear you scream." She shook her head. "I don't even know what he was doing there." "You probably just caught him crawling out of his hole," Mulder shrugged. She didn't respond, but by looking at her Mulder could tell that this thing wasn't going away. "I've saved your life too," he reminded her. She shrugged. "Well, you weren't there this time." It wasn't really meant to be a shot but that's how it came out, and Scully found herself not regretting a word. Mulder was definitely hurt, but decided not to make any reference to it. "I just don't understand how you can be concerned about him," he summed up lamely. "You don't understand a lot of things," she told him pointedly."Besides, I'm not sure I understand the situation myself." "Let's see," Mulder began. "Ratboy showed up, pretending to be me, 'saved your life', got shot, which he deserves for an infinite number of things; the most recent being the fact he was probably putting the moves on you anyway, and is now doing a-okay in the hospital. Neither one of us has any reason to be here, but you're stubborn and I'm confused so we are. Next question." "He was not pretending to be you," Scully countered, "I only thought he was you because you had left and I thought maybe you'd remember me and come back and do the work you were supposed to be doing." "Hey." Mulder's tone was flat. "There's no need to get nasty." Scully knocked her head back and finished off her pitiful coffee. She pushed herself to her feet and stood to face him, her eyes flashing. "I think there is," she replied. "I'm sorry Mulder, but I can't help but feel resentment toward you because you run off all the time, leaving me to fend for myself; I never know when you're coming back...I mean, if you're not there to help me out in a situation like that, where I had no protection against Uzi-wielding drug lords, I'm going to get it wherever I can. And I got it from the most available resource, and that was Alex, and you're going to have to deal with it." Mulder looked stunned. "Alex?" "Yes, Alex," Scully said. "Alex?" he repeated. "Whatever happened to 'Scum' or 'Dirtbag' or 'Rat' or any other name pertaining to people who are below the lowest speices?" She shook her head and drilled her cup into the garbage can with such force that it bounced off the side and back out onto the floor. Scully bent and snatched it off the dirty linoleum and tossed it back at the can, succeeding this time. She turned and headed down the hall towards the nurse's station without answering Mulder. "Scully?" he called after her. She did not look back as she inquired about Krycek's condition to the head nurse. "Come on, Scully, I think I have a right to know," he said, trying to keep his voice down. She stared at the chart in front of her, face like stone, eyes dead. The truth was, she didn't know herself. ---end ---
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