TITLE: Grand Canyon Suite
AUTHOR: Michelle Kiefer
E-MAIL: Msk1024@aol.com
DISTRIBUTION: Archive if you'd like.
Please let me know where.
SPOILERS: Two Fathers/One Son; also small
ones for Pilot, One Breath, Pine Bluff
Variant.
CONTENT: M/S UST, hint of romance.
CLASSIFICATION: V
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to
Chris Carter, Ten-thirteen, and the
X-Files.
COMMENTS: Thanks again for support and 
encouragement to Kestabrook, Laine, and
all the Crystalshippers. 
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.

Grand Canyon Suite 
by Michelle Kiefer

When a person has a toothache, sometimes
the urge to test that tooth with the
tongue is overpowering. Fox Mulder
regarded apartment 35 in this graceful
Georgetown building as that tooth. He
could hear loud music coming through the
door, and that struck him as rather
unusual. He knocked and called out,
"Scully?" and then again, "Scully?" a bit
louder. After several minutes of waiting,
he ran his hand through his hair and
opened the door with his key.

The smell that met his nose terrified
him. In his ten years in the FBI,
Mulder had smelled some dreadful things:
bile, raw sewage, and bodies that had
spent weeks in a river. And so recently
that his skin probably still retained the
scent, he had smelled burned flesh. But
none of those smells was as frightening
as this one. Pinesol.

The place reeked of Pinesol. Scully
cleaned obsessively when she was upset or
angry, and this much Pinesol did not bode
well. He could hear Alanis Morrisette on
the stereo: the really angry song from
her first CD. Oh, there was no way this
could be good.

Mulder scanned the apartment, looking for
Scully. He found her atop a step stool
and leaning into a kitchen cabinet. The
kitchen looked as though a culinary
cyclone had hit it--the contents of the
cabinets were piled on every available
surface. The floor, and all the fixtures,
however, gleamed. Oh, yes, this was not
going to be good.

"Scully."

She wobbled on the step stool as she
whirled around in a panic. "Mulder, what
the hell--"

"Sorry I startled you; I knocked but you
didn't hear me."

Scully took several deep breaths. "I have
the music up--I must not have heard you
over it." She pushed the hair back from
her face. "I'll be with you in a minute;
I just want to finish this. Get yourself
something to drink; there's beer, Diet
Pepsi, and bottled water. Oh, and some
wine."

Now this was puzzling. Scully bore all
the signs of a full-fledged snit, yet she
didn't seem particularly angry. Mulder
was a master at detecting when Scully was
pissed at him, yet he didn't get those
vibrations at all here. After so many
years of working so closely, he could
read her like a book.    

She had left rather abruptly after their
early morning meeting with Skinner,
Spender, and Kersh. She had made the
excuse of "things to do" and disappeared.
Apparently "things to do" included
heavy housecleaning.

Mulder hadn't dwelled on her departure
but had gone down to his now reclaimed
basement office. He did pass the thought
that he would have enjoyed what he had
imagined would be a triumphant feeling--
if Scully had been there to share it.
Instead, he had felt somewhat deflated.
When he had opened the door, he'd found
the office empty and had discovered a
fairly large bloodstain near the desk.
The inquiry into this discovery had taken
the rest of the day, and it was nearly
7:00 P.M. when he had broken away to make
his way out to Georgetown.

They hadn't really spoken since the
argument at the Lone Gunmen's office. He
had known she was angry, but she hadn't
mentioned the heated discussion since
then. She had been a bit distant and had 
asked Skinner to drop her home first
after they'd left the horrible scene at
El Rico. They had all been so shell-
shocked that little conversation had
taken place on the ride home.  

"You ducked out rather quickly today," he
told her now. "You missed all the
excitement." The only part of Scully that
Mulder could see was her shapely bottom
as she scrubbed the inside of the
cabinet. His words got her attention,
though, and she drew her head out and
came down from the stool.

"What excitement? What happened?" She
dried her hands on a clean rag and pulled
a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"Jeffrey Spender is missing, and there
was a lot of blood in my office," Mulder 
explained. He shrugged out of his
overcoat and dropped it carelessly on
a chair. He still wore his suit from
work; his tie was pulled loose and the
top button of his dress shirt, undone.

She took a long pull on the water bottle.
The phrase "my office" was not lost on
her. "So Diana is missing, and now
Jeffrey Spender is as well. What do you
make of all this?"  

"I, uh, I wish I knew." Mulder looked
down at the toe of his wingtip shoe.
"I'll admit that I am completely in the
dark here." *In the dark* was an apt
phrase, he thought. He was also in the
dark about Scully's attitude. If she
wasn't angry with him, then at who was
she angry enough to clean over? "Scully,
I'm sorry about what happened back at the
Gunmen's. I realize I sounded
dismissive." He sat down heavily on the
couch.

"Listen, it wasn't my best moment either.
I let my emotions get away from me, and I
didn't feel you were listening. I guess I
felt my temper rising during that--
humiliating--de-con shower, through Diana's 
contrived apologies. That shower thing
was meant for me, to humiliate me."

"Scully, you have nothing to be humiliated 
about. I've never known you to be freaked out by
nudity." He shrugged to himself. She was
a doctor after all, and there were occasions 
when they had been in various states of undress 
in the course of their work. She had never 
before been shy over it.

"Mulder, you certainly know that forced
nudity has been used historically as a
means to demoralize and humiliate. The
Nazis did it in the concentration camps,
and after the war, they did it to the
women who consorted with the Nazis in
Europe. The're very sensitive about it in
med school these days--the patient should
be dressed when conferring with the
doctor to maintain dignity--stuff like
that. *She* knew exactly what she was
doing, and it worked. She got me so angry
I couldn't see straight. She knew it
would damage any credibility I had." She
glanced at him and seemed pleased to see 
he understood her.

"Sometimes I feel like a marionette--like
someone's been pulling the strings all my
life." He leaned his head back on the
sofa and looked at her as she walked
around to sit next to him. "Even the very
best things that ever happened to me were
manipulated by someone else. Scully, you
are without a doubt the best thing in my
life, even though I know that someone
poured over a stack of agent files and
chose you as the person who would be able
to keep me in line."

"I haven't been very successful, have I?" 
She sat, facing Mulder, and drew her knees
up onto the couch. "Bet they were
surprised."

"You keep me in line, just not in the way
they planned." His head still rested on
the back of the sofa, but he turned his
head to look at her. "You know, I'll bet
they looked at all the possible
supervisors for the X-Files and figured
Skinner would either make me toe the line
or would drive me out. He didn't work out
as they thought either. But that doesn't
change the fact that someone made a
choice that he thought would control me.
I guess I hated to think that one more 
person had been put in my path to suit
the needs of those old men."

Scully looked at Mulder. "Diana could 
have come into your life by chance. 
There could be a good explanation for 
her actions, but Mulder, no one has 
hollowed-out records without a reason.
I just wanted you to look at that 
critically."

"I did. I do--I went to her apartment,
Scully. I didn't find anything, but I
didn't really expect to. If she was
involved, there would be no evidence. I
still don't know if I believe the worst
about her, but I'm not a fool."

Scully leaned her head back on the sofa,
mirroring Mulder's position. "That's all
I wanted. I just can't bear for you to 
get hurt. Mulder, last year, when you 
were undercover--I never thought for a 
minute that you had betrayed your 
country, but what I did know was that 
you were acting suspiciously and hiding 
something." Suddenly, she seemed unable 
to sit still. She rose and crossed to 
look out the window. "I knew there was 
a good explanation, and I wasn't going 
to rest until I found it. Mulder, if my 
actions weren't adding up, I would expect
you to believe in me, but I would also 
expect you to check out why." She 
fingered the curtains, as if trying
to muster courage to ask a question
that haunted her. "Mulder, why didn't you
ever tell me about Diana?" She drew a
shaky breath.

Mulder sat forward, resting his elbows on
his knees and holding his head in his
hands. God, this was painful, but he owed
her an explanation. "I guess there were a
lot of things about my relationship with
Diana that I wasn't particularly proud
of. Let's just say that it wasn't my
shining hour." He knew that wasn't enough
to satisfy her, but he needed a minute to
regroup. 

"I was at a real low point when I met
Diana. After years with the ISU--I was a
mess. I smoked--way too much, and I also
drank--too much of that as well. I ran so
often and so far that a psych evaluation
called it 'punishing'. The repressed
memories of my childhood were starting to
cause problems--fits of depression,
trouble sleeping. I honestly thought the
FBI was going to put me out on a mental
disability." Mulder scrubbed his eyes
with the heels of his hands, the memories
causing him pain even now.

"That's where Diana came in," Scully
prompted, turning from the window and
returning to the couch.

"Yeah, maybe that timing was a little too
convenient also. Diana was what I needed
at the time--maybe that was the idea. She
straightened me out, and next thing I
knew, I had an appointment with Dr.
Werber." Mulder winced, reflecting. "I
was so needy--it's kind of embarrassing
when I remember. I thought Diana was
strong, but looking back, I see that she
was very controlling, almost
manipulative. And I let her run my life--
I believe the term has something to do
with 'whipped'. Anyway, it was my fault.
If I hadn't been so weak, she wouldn't
have needed to take over like that."

Her voice was sympathetic. "Mulder, you
are not 'whipped', and regardless of her
motivations or methods, if she helped you
through a rough time, that can't be a bad
thing." 

He knew it took almost every ounce of
personal strength she had to say anything
remotely positive about Diana, and he
appreciated her sacrifice. "Scully, I
don't know if I'd have been alive to bug 
you when you first came to the 'FBI's
most unwanted' if Diana hadn't been there
years ago. I think that's why I wanted to
believe in her, but I'm not deluded
either. I could see her trying to exert
her control again, as soon as she came
back. She wanted to see how strong we
were together--to see if she could drive
a wedge in between us." Mulder very much
enjoyed the look of shock on Scully's
face at his last comment. It was a rare
day that he could shake up his
unflappable partner. "Close your mouth,
Scully; you'll catch flies."

"You knew. You rat, you knew what she was
doing, and you let me stew about it," she
sputtered. Her surprise that he admitted
being aware of  Diana's tactics was
obvious.

"Scully, I'm not proud of this either.
You give so little away--I never know how
you feel about anything--about me. I
guess this was tangible evidence that you
weren't completely indifferent to me." If
he hadn't felt humiliated before, he did
now. When he looked into her eyes,
though, what he saw startled him. Scully
was looking at him with such regret.

"Mulder, I have never been indifferent to
you, and I'm so sorry if you never knew
that." She rested her hand on his arm,
feeling the warmth of his skin and the
tension in his muscles. "You're the most
important person in my life. You told me
a long time ago that I made you whole.
Well, that goes both ways--you complete
me, too." She paused, as if asking the
next question was fearful to her.
Finally, she whispered, "Did you love
her?"

He looked at his hands, his head lowered.
"I thought I did," he murmured. "I didn't
have much experience with that emotion. I
figured that was how love felt." He
glanced at his partner. "Scully, did you
ever see the Grand Canyon?"

She shrugged. "What does that have to do
with anything?" 

"Just bear me out--answer me."

"Okay, yeah, we went there on a family
trip when I was twelve. Bill threatened
to throw Charlie over the railing. Where
are you going with this?"

"Well, when I was a kid, we didn't take
such swell Brady Bunch family vacations.
I had to settle for seeing the Grand
Canyon on the Wide World of Disney. Now,
I accepted what I saw as the Grand Canyon
because the announcer said that's what it
was. Years later, when I was with the
ISU, I was in Flagstaff on a case and
drove out to the Grand Canyon with a
couple of agents when the case wrapped
up. I was absolutely poleaxed when I saw
the real thing for the first time. I
couldn't speak for a few minutes. I
realized then that the pictures I had
seen were just images, just
representations of the real thing--not
the real thing at all. Do you follow me
with this?" 

He knew he had feelings for her. And she
had to know it, too. In fact, she would
have had to have been blind not to know
after all these years. The look he had
given her as she walked across the
basketball court the other day had been
naked with admiration and desire. And
though she may have carefully ignored
that look from him and from other men,
she was well acquainted with it. She
was a beautiful woman and must have
been attracting attention since her
teens.  Picturing a teenaged Scully
with a pimply faced boy trailing behind her
and Bill glaring at them brought an
inward smile.

Now, Mulder ventured a glance, trying to
gauge her reaction to his words. She
seemed as stunned as he had been years
ago, hands gripping the rail so tightly
as he'd looked out at a true wonder of
the world. Her jaw started working, but
it was a few seconds before sounds came
out. 

"When--uh--when did you know how you
really felt about--you know?" 

He smiled; it was so like Scully to have
trouble with the "L" word. "I don't know. 
Somewhere between 'Agent Mulder, I'm
looking forward to working with you' and
the present." He reached over to tuck a
strand of silk behind her ear. "Listen,
I'm starved. Let's go get something to 
eat."

"Mulder, I'm a mess." Scully looked down
at the college vintage jeans that were
now two sizes too big and the bleach-
stained sweatshirt she was wearing.

"So go clean up--I'll wait." Actually,
she looked pretty good to him just as she
stood. With a shrug and a smile, she was
off to her bedroom, leaving him to drift
around the living room, picking up photos
and little mementos. He smiled as he
spotted the "Super Stars of the Super
Bowl" video stacked among the others
under her VCR.

He heard her return to the living room
and pivoted to see her. He was surprised
to see her wearing a chenille knit
sweater in deep periwinkle blue, a color
that magically enhanced her beautiful
eyes. He tried to stop from gaping, happy
to see her shed her now accustomed black
clothing. "Well, ma'am, you clean up
right good," Mulder finally managed to
quip. It then occurred to him that this
was how it was between the two of them.
No matter what obstacles were thrown in
their path, they got stronger. No matter
who tried to pull them apart, they always
came back together. They were better
together than either one of them was
alone. They fed each other's strengths
and bolstered each other's weaknesses.

As Scully turned the lock and closed the 
door behind them, he felt a feeling of 
hope and well-being wash over him. He
turned back from a pace ahead of Scully
and smiled at her over his shoulder. 
That tooth had already stopped aching.

(End)