Title: "Play the Game"
Author: Heather Horn
Rating: PG
Category: MSR
Spoilers: "Pusher"
Summary: A post-"Pusher" vignette, Scully contradicts what Mulder might have mouthed.
Feedback: Please, take pity on this poor, abused author and send me mail! actingislife@chickmail.com
Archive: I would be honoured! Please just tell me where you are putting it and leave my name attached. Thanks!
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" is copyright Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and The Fox Network. No money is being made from this. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: I know that if Scully was watching on the monitor she wouldn't see Mulder's face, but let's just pretend she saw it.
Oh my Lord.
Is it just me, or did he actually say that?
Mouth it, whatever.
My hesitation to believe was at large as always, even more so now. I racked my mind for the other words that might have crossed his lips that very moment. As a girl, my friends and I would mouth "Olive juice" to guys we passed and they assumed we were trying to say, "I love you." Though it was a juvenile game, it could have been "Olive juice". But why would he say that?
Rejuvenated with confidence, I sprung from my chair, and jumped out of the van, dodging the cars until I reached the hospital entrance. I didn't even thinking to grab the two guns sitting on the table next to me. It was like Mulder had said; I wouldn't want to end up pointing it at anybody except Modell.
The swat lieutenant led me to the small customary room that they believed Mulder to be in.
"Mulder!" I cried, practically leaping towards the round table where he sat across from Modell.
"Thanks for joining us." Pusher said, nonchalantly.
"We've got a dozen law enforcement officers outside in the hall, another thirty in the parking lot." I snarled, trying to sound tough. But I couldn't. I was too worried about Mulder. "Whatever you've got planned, it's not going to work!" Modell raised his eyes towards me, giving a look that clearly stated, "Run along and play, little girl!"
Modell slid a revolver across the table to Mulder, explaining the rules of the game. Mulder was to pull the trigger on Modell, and since there was only one bullet in the chamber, there was a one-in-six chance that a bullet would be fired.
Slowly, Mulder picked up the gun and aimed it at Modell. I drew in a quick gasp of air as he pulled the trigger. It clicked, but nothing. No bullet, no blood. And according to the rules, the game had to go on.
"Your turn." Modell explained to me, the grotesque cut on the side of his face thriving.
The whole time I had been in the room, Mulder hadn't even acknowledged me; he only stared straight forward towards Modell.
That was all about to change.
Mulder trained the gun on me, his arms shaking.
"Mulder, no!" I sobbed, melting in to that helpless little girl once again.
"Mulder, yes." Modell responded coyly.
In one swift motion, Mulder swung the gun up to his head and pulled the trigger. As I slammed my fist down on the table, I knew the helplessness was gone.
"No! Damn you, you bastard!" I screamed at Modell in all my glory.
I gently grabbed Mulder's arm, trying to coax the gun from his hand.
Instead, he pointed it at me again.
"Your turn, Scully, you have to play by the rules." Modell laughed like a madman.
"Mulder, no, you can fight this, you're stronger than it!" I babbled. The little girl was back, stronger than ever. Know I knew how Mulder must have felt before I shot him, though I doubt he saw it coming.
"Scully, run!" Mulder mumbled through his clenched teeth.
As I ran out into the hall and set off the fire alarm, Mulder pulled the trigger and I felt myself flinch. But it wasn't me he pulled it on. Modell lie lifelessly on the floor as Mulder continued to dry-fire at Modell with the empty revolver. As swat team members crowded around us, I ran to Mulder, who had resumed his seat in the chair, and kneeled down until we were face-to-face. His face was tired and weary as I put both my hands on his shoulders, tears streaming down my face.
An hour later, I joined Mulder in Modell's hospital room, taking Mulder's hand into mine. He still had that far-away look in his eyes, shocked by his own actions, and the consciences of the game.
"Mulder, come back to my place." I said softly. "You're really out of it."
Mulder was in no place to disagree, and he allowed me to lead to the car as we made our way to the airport.
I unlocked the door to my apartment, leading him inside and heading for the kitchen to make some coffee.
"Hey, Scully, want to play Scattegories?" Mulder called from the living room, going through the stack of games that sat under the television.
"Not another game!" I moaned teasingly. He was beginning to act more like himself. I knew he was back to normal when for a magazine that starts with the letter 'P' he wrote "Playpen". I laughed in spite of myself, revealing that my answer was nothing more than "People". Oh, the joys mind-enhancing games.
We switched over to Monopoly, then Charades, chatting between turns.
"Gone with the Wind!" Mulder guessed excitedly, and I nodded, plopping down next to him on the couch.
"Um, Mulder," I began nervously. My inner-child had returned. "Ah, before you met up with Modell, you kind of mouthed something, and I was kind of wondering..." My voice trailed off.
"You mean this?" Mulder asked, getting to his feet and preparing to perform another charade. He tiptoed forwards, then gasped and moved his mouth slowly, revealing the muted words once again.
"Yes, that." I said precisely.
Mulder walked back to the couch, cautiously sitting down next to me.
"Scully," He told me sweetly, taking my hand. "My life has been in danger before, as has yours. But Modell, he reminded me of my days in the bureau when I was respected, way back when I would profile criminals - not that I like that job better than this one or anything, you know that's not true." I knew the power of this man. I had seen what he could talk people into with out a second thought. At that very moment, I thought for sure I was a goner, and not by some extraterrestrial force, either. I needed to tell you in case I didn't make it out."
"Mulder!" I squeaked, stretching the last syllable of his name. I leaned forward, my arms leaning on my legs, and tilted my head so that I could see his face. "After all we've been through together, and all that we will go through, our lives will be endangered during each case, no matter what the grandeur of injury. I would die for you. And if I were to face the inevitable to keep you alive, it would be worth it. Because I know in my heart that you love me, and that's all I need to be content." He stared at me for a long, silenced moment, and I thought he might kiss me. I smiled brightly, and he returned the smile, enveloping me into a big bear hug. Sitting halfway on my knees, I was as tall as him sitting straight up, my arms wrapped tightly around his back as we swayed in place.
"Please don't forgot." He whispered into my ear.
"I won't." I replied. "I've got it all on tape."
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"Play the Game" was written by Heather Horn on June 16, 1999
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