MISUNDERSTOOD By DAVID HEARNE ottercrk@sover.net CLASSIFICATION: Just a story RATING: PG SUMMARY: A story about Mulder and Scully in their older, waning years. SPOILERS: "Never Again," "Anasazi" DISCLAIMER: As always, "The X-Files" is a product of 10-13. The song "Misunderstood," however, was written by Pete Townshend. ------------------------------------------------------------ When the phone rang, Dana Scully immediately knew what the caller was going to tell her. That's why she looked up from her book and watched her granddaughter answer the phone. In most homes, having a eight-year-old child answer the phone was not a good idea. Ahleen Scully, however, was very mature and well-spoken for her age. In fact, it was a little errie. Ahleen brushed back her long silver hair and pressed the receiver to her ear. Dana's house had avoided using video transmitters out of a stubborn form of nostaliga. "Dana Scully's residence," Ahleen said. "May I help you?" Ahleen listened for a few moments, then turned to her grandmother at the other side of the living room. "It's Mister Skinner," she informed Dana. She didn't sigh. She didn't hesitate. Dana Scully just stood up from the sofa and walked over to the phone. "Hello, Thomas...I see...Could you just use a laser cutter?..." Emily Scully stepped into the living room from the kitchen. She and her daughter were spending a week with grandma for a vacation. She had just been making cookies and flour was sprinkled over her apron. She folded her arms across her chest, watching her mother with weariness and a little pity. "Yes, he would make that difficult, wouldn't he? All right, I'll come on down...It's fine, Thomas. You were right to call me. I'll be there in a half-hour. Good-bye." She hung up the phone. "Mom, don't do this," Emily said. Dana looked at her middle-aged daughter. Both Emily and Ahleen had inherited their mother's blue eyes, but their father's silver hair had skipped Emily. "I won't be long," Dana assured her. "He's not your responsibility." "No. He's just my bad habit." Emily shook her head and went back to the kitchen. Dana looked down at Ahleen and shrugged. Ahleen shrugged back. Dana took the quantum transport to Washington, but not before getting something out of her closet. "You all go right ahead. Pay no attention to me." "Sir," Thomas Skinner said with the tone of someone on his last reserves of patience. "this is really not benefitting a man of your caliber." "Funny, Thomas. I was going to say the same to you. I would have expected the grandson of Walter Skinner not to get involved in this backroom shit. Now, he was a man that I trusted." Fox Mulder grinned. "Well, most of the time anyway." Thomas closed his eyes for a few moments, then turned for help to the Scarnobian delegates. One of them decided to give it a try. He stepped forward to address the old man. "There will be nothing backroom about this discussion, sir. Everything said here will be a matter of public record." "In that case, you and the other Wookies wouldn't mind if I stick around." The Scarnobian's fur bristled and his fangs grinded. "For the last time, Mister Mulder, I...am...not...a...Wookie." "Funny. You look like one." The Scarnobian let out a low growl and threw his arms up in defeat. "Now, listen closely," Mulder said and pointed his hand at everybody in the conference room. To be precise, it was his left hand. The right one was enclosed in an adhesive handcuff that was stuck to the wall. "You think you can make decisions for thousands of people in secret? I want to know what exactly you have in mind for the Saturn colonies and I'm going to stay here until I get..." Then a short old woman walked into the room. Thomas and the Scarnobians stepped aside for her out of respect. She said nothing to anyone. She just looked at the old man at the other end of the room. Her expression was unreadable. The old man's face held conflicting emotions. He was annoyed by her presence but entertained by it as well. He was grateful for her to be here as well as unsure as to her next actions. His smile seemed to throw down a challenge to her. Scully examined the situation for a brief moment. Then she pulled out a gun and fired. Everybody jumped as a piece of wood bit itself off above Mulder's head. Everybody except Mulder. He flinched a little, but the smile on his face remained. He regarded the little old lady and her gun as if he was pleased by her solution. Then he said, "Release." The handcuff detached itself from the wall. Mulder picked up his cane and hobbled over to Scully's side. "Carry on," she told Thomas and the Scarnobians. Then the two old people left the room. It took them awhile before anybody could seat themselves at the conference table. They did it slowly, looking at each other with bewildered eyes. Finally, one of the Scarnobians spoke up. "She...she really wouldn't have shot him, would she?" "She's done it before," Thomas muttered. "Twice, actually." Emily Scully wasn't surprised to get the call from her mother saying that she would be late getting back to California. She wasn't surprised to hear the slurred quality of her mother's voice, either. After the call, Scully walked back to Mulder, carefully. She was both amazed and unsurprised by herself. Mulder's reasons for coming to this bar had faded away from her mind. Nor could she explain exactly how a diplomatic indulgence in a shared drink had turned into an alcoholic binge. Perhaps she had wanted to keep Mulder under control for awhile and getting him shit-faced was the best plan she could conceive of at the time. All she knew now, however, was that both of them were drunk and they must have looked utterly pathetic. As she sat down next to Mulder at their table, he proposed yet another toast. "To Pendrell!" "To Pendrell." Clink. Slurp. "To Deep Throat, Mr. X, Alvin Kurtzweil and Marita Covarrubias!" "Her, too?" "Sure. Why not?" "Okay. To all of them." Clink. Slurp. "To...to, uh...to that bald-headed guy we worked for. What was his name?" Scully gave him a look. "Don't know, either, huh? To the bald-headed guy, then!" Clink. Slurp. Sip. "To Langley and Byers!" "And Frohike." Mulder frowned. He and Frohike didn't get along too well anymore. ("He has really turned establishment since he became President," he would mutter.) However, he shrugged and they drank again. "So, what do you think they're planning?" Mulder asked. "Who?" "The Scarnobians. And Thomas Skinner." "I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about." "Are you sure?" "Let me rephrase that. It's nothing that I give a rat's-ass about." "Ah." Mulder gave her a look. "You know what?" "What?" "When I look at your wrinkled skin and your grey hair and your sagging boobs, I have to think..." "Yes?" "...that you're still the most desirable woman I've ever met." Scully looked back at Mulder, then said, "Well...you are still...the most perversely attractive man I've ever met." Mulder cackled and pointed his cane straight up into the air. "I could have had this woman!" he announced to the bar, then brought the cane down onto the floor with a crack. "But I needed her mind more than I needed her body." The other patrons of the bar looked away in embarrassment. Scully wasn't embarrased. She had stopped being embarrassed by Mulder a long time ago. When was that exactly? It was the Armol incident. This has been after the Colonization War and Earth had just learned that there were a thousand other races in the universe to get to know. Mulder seemed like one of the best people to serve as a go-between aliens and puny earthlings. She remembered the day that he had been officially given the title of "Ambassador of Earth." Her happiness had been two-fold---she was glad that Mulder had come to the end of his long quest and she was glad that the time seemed ripe for ending her part in it. She was tired. She had fought the good fight with Mulder and now it was time to get on with her life. But Mulder was still Mulder. The next thing she knew, Mulder was accusing the Armol Monarchy of being involved in---God save her---a conspiracy. All reasonable opinion considered his accusations to be unsubstantiated. It looked like he was going to be sent packing back to Earth. That's when Mulder asked Scully for help and---God save her again---she gave it to him. And guess what? Mulder had been right. "Is this the way it's always going to be, Mulder?" Scully asked him. "Can you never be content with just remaining in the frying pan?" "Not as long as I know you'll be there to hose me down," he replied with a grin. That's how they became co-ambassadors. Scully was starting to wonder if her life was somebody's idea of joke. When she first stepped into Mulder's messy basement office, she simply could not have guessed that she would eventually be travelling to worlds unseen in Earth's sky. She never would have believed that she would find a husband on one of those worlds. She certainly never would have imagined that she would end this particular day in a bar, straining her own liver. Sooner or later, life simply had to stop giving her surprises like this. __________________________________ It took a lot of effort for two drunk old people to get out of a cab, get out the ID card for an apartment building's front door, find their way to the elevator, carry each other to an apartment and then fall onto a couch inside. However, Mulder and Scully managed to do just that. They remained on the couch, taking deep breaths, sprawled out like stringless puppets. Neither one of them spoke for several moments. Then Mulder said, "Hey." "What?" "We saved the world." Scully nodded. "That we did. And now we have to let it go on without us." "The hell I will. How will it manage without me?" It became quiet again. Then Mulder said, "Hey." "What?" "You still got that tattoo?" "Yes. I do." "Ever show it to Ahleen?" "I have. She thinks it's very amusing." "What do you tell her about it?" "I told her that Grandma got it when she was feeling a little crazy." Mulder nodded and closed his eyes. If there was ever a time that he had come close to losing her... "I need to go," she said. "What now?" "The meter is running on the cab downstairs." She pulled herself to her feet, feeling lucky enough to find her balance. "You don't need to go now. You can catch a quantum transport back to California anytime." "Emily is going to worry about me. The more she worries, the more she dislikes you." Mulder looked up at her and slowly nodded. "How's Wednaj, by the way?" he asked. "Still in hibernation?" "He is." "He's a good guy. Humanoid. Whatever." "I know." "Must be hard having your husband sleep on you for about a month." "I get by. I've got Emily and Ahleen and..." And I've got nobody, Mulder thought as Scully cut herself. I've got three ex-wives, an ambassadorship that I still hold because no one feels it's worth it to relieve me of it and a lot of holoporns. Add it all up and the sum is nobody. "I've got to go," Scully said. "Sure. Take care of yourself." "You, too." With that, Scully gingerly left the apartment. A few minutes later, Mulder heard the cab take off. That left him with one silent apartment. He decided to rectify that with some tunes. He managed to pick up the remote control and pressed the "random song" button. The stereo came to life and began to select something out of its database. Then Mulder heard a harmonica along with a gulping noise and a tin can being struck for time. Oh, no, he thought. Not... "I just want to be misunderstood. "I want to be feared in my neighborhood. "Just want to be a moody man. "Say things that nobody can understand." ...this song. Ah, Pete, why are you doing this to me? Still, he listened. He thought. He realized that he had passed a point with Scully. He had always been a pain in her life. Yet he also has been a support and even an inspiration. Lately, however, the pain had become the dominant aspect. Now, she was treating him less like a friend and more like someone that had to be cleaned up after. Their experience with whiskey this afternoon was probably the last time they would ever be in a situation considered remotely personal. Even then, she did that as a way of keeping him out of trouble. As for cleaning up his messes, today may have been the last time as well. She was old. She didn't want to spend her few remaining years playing Sancho Panza to his Don Quoxite. The next time Thomas Skinner or anybody else called, she would politely decline. Well, then, fine. If she was too weak to fight the fight, fine. If all of their years together didn't mean anything, just goddamned fine. Because, Scully, those windmills aren't so harmless after all. There is corruption and deceit and evil in the universe and if it gets too tense for your little head, you just go ahead... Mulder put his hands over his face. His wrinkled, pale, spotted hands. No. Scully was right. It was time. There was no shame in admitting that. When Samantha had been returned to him, he had thought that his obsessions would end. When they hadn't, he had mistook them for his courage and his need for justice. In reality, they hadn't gone away because he couldn't let them go. He wanted to let go. How do you do that, though, and face your own uselessness? How do you face life as an useless, crabby, broken-down... You stupid man. You stupid, stupid old man. The Scully women were having breakfast when there was a knocking at the door. This time, Scully didn't know who it was or what he wanted. It was Emily who answered the door and got the nasty surprise of seeing Fox Mulder on the other side. "Hello, Emily," he said. "Mind if I..." "Go away, Mulder. Go away now." "But wait..." "You're not dragging her off..." "I'm not here to drag off anybody. Please, Emily." Emily looked at the elderly man. It was hard to connect him with the one her mother told her about---the one who had enough kindness and warmth in him to overcome his meanest faults. Yet, in the end, she had to believe her mother. Also, there was a sadness in his eyes which she couldn't ignore. Dana looked up to see Mulder walk into the dining room with her daughter. She felt wary, but there was a touch of something else in her. A kind of hope. "Good morning, ladies," he said. "Sorry to interrupt your breakfast." "Hello, Mr. Mulder," Ahleen said. "That's me. Mister Cool-Walking, Smooth-Talking, Straight-Smoking, Fire-Stoking himself." Ahleen gave Mulder the blank polite look she always had whenever he tried to make a joke. "Tell me, Ahleen, have you ever been to the San Diego Zoo?" "Yes. I have." "Well, did you know that they just acquired a whole family of Chulers from Dav II?" "No." "I would like to check that out. Want to come along?" Ahleen looked at Dana. So did Emily. The old woman looked back at her two generations. "That is, unless...you ladies have something else in mind. Which I would be glad to help out you with." Mulder cleared his throat. "If that's all right." Dana Scully finally looked at Fox Mulder. "The zoo sounds fine, Mulder. Would you like to join us for breakfast?" After breakfast, Emily and Ahleen went to get themselves ready. Mulder and Scully sat at the table together. "So, what is this about, Mulder?" "Nothing more than a desire to spend a little time with three wonderful women." "Anything else?" "Well...I might have decided that you were right yesterday." "Really?" "I figured, hey...she's right once every decade. This might as well be her time." "Don't push it, Mulder." Mulder smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I won't," he told her. "Not any more." __________________________________________________________ If you want to hear Pete Townshend's "Misunderstood," buy the "Rough Mix" album which contains, I think, his best solo work.