Title: Running in Place Author: FirePhile (FirePhile@aol.com) Spoilers: Dreamland II Classification: VAH Rating: PG-13 Keywords: M/S UST Summary: How does Mulder deal with the changes in his apartment? Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine -- they belong to CC&C0, 1013 productions and FOX Television. It's enough to make me feel like a rubber band. Get a call, run out to Nevada, find nothing, come back. Nothing's changed, nothing ever will change it feels. For the first time in my life I feel like I've reached some sort of equilibrium and have no idea how to break out of it. No searching for the truth now, the files are gone, avenues of investigation closed off. Jesus, even a trip to Area 51 could have gotten us fired. I no longer see a light at the end of this tunnel -- it's more like a murky cloud that's trapped me and isn't letting go. Seems like just yesterday I was in the car with Crump, but that had to be weeks ago -- right? My life has never felt so stalled. That's a good word for it -- stalled. It feels like I'm on a fucking treadmill and going through the motions. I'm not even sure how much I care anymore. What good is the FBI to us now? Even if we find evidence we could be fired for gathering it...because it's not part of our "case-load". Scully and I could investigate every file in the X-Files and still have enough time to perform these jerk-off assignments. This -- what we're doing, what I'm doing, it's just marking time. But there's no goal in sight, the chances of us getting back the Files minus a minor miracle are virtually non-existent. I wonder if Kersh notices that we're taking more vacation days than usual. In fact, I wonder if that asshole realizes that one of the only reasons why I'm still in the FBI is because he's trying so hard to insure my resignation. I never liked giving up without a fight. The phone rings and the voice on the other line reminds me of the other reason why I've stayed. Is it my imagination or does her voice sound more...gentle than usual? I want to tell her how much she means to me but all that comes out is a thank you, I guess it will have to do. After these past few weeks any declarations I make will be doubted anyway. Ah, my apartment, another example of static equilibrium. When's the last time I redecorated and did a spring cleaning? Years? Before I joined the X-Files? My bedroom could be hiding Jimmy Hoffa for all I know. On the good side, no one that's ever decided to search my place has been able to get through all the boxes. Although, I did notice that I was missing one of my prized "Playpen" magazines. The one with all the playmates from the past five years. Not that I even buy them anymore -- but a collection is a collection. Somewhere in my bedroom are probably copies of old VCS files but the idea of searching through the file boxes is less than appealing. Do I have the right apartment? This is impossible, I'm not surprised when I come in and find the place ransacked but...redecorated? Did I have this lamp before and what happened to my coat rack? No, this is the right one unless someone switched around the outside numbers. Wait, why is the bedroom door opened? This is impossible...what happened to all of my stuff...what is this...thing in the middle and a mirror on the ceiling? When did Hugh Heffner become my interior decorator? I know, this must be a new ploy by *Them*...yes, they switched around my apartment to make me think that I'm losing my mind. But I know the truth, it didn't look this way when I left for Nevada, right? Thank God the couch is the same. Okay Fox, get a grip, sit down and try to reason this out. You left yesterday on a plane, drove down the highway with Scully, got stopped by a different smoking man, drove back to the airport, flew back to DC and entered your apartment. So far, so good. Now...what happened in the interim? I can't remember an X-File dealing with apartment rearranging. Is this a joke? Yes, it must be.... Frohike and the guys must have come in here and any time now I'll get a call from them gloating over my shock. I bet they have a camera in here to record my reaction. How did they get in? Scully must have given them a key...she's in on it. Never took her for a prankster but maybe that's why she called right before I went into the apartment. I'll call her and tell her how much I enjoyed the joke and that I would like my stuff back now. "Scully," she answers right away. "Good prank Scully, now where are the boxes?" "Mulder? What are you talking about?" I hear the false confusion in her voice. "I know that you helped the guys play a trick on me, it was very funny now can I have back my coat rack?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." she sounds genuinely confused. "So you didn't help them rearrange my furniture and clean my apartment for me?" "Are you feeling okay? Why would you suspect..." "I walked into my apartment and it was clean, rearranged and redecorated, tell me you knew nothing about this." "Why would anyone do that Mulder?" "I don't know, so this isn't a joke?" I ask hopefully. "I have no idea what happened -- but no it's not a joke." "In that case, I think you'd better get over here and find a logical explanation for this Scully." I hear her sigh softly, "I'll be right there." While waiting for her I resist the urge to search the place for bugs. She has to see it this way -- I can't mess it up before she arrives. Instead, I search for more abnormalities, such as...food in my fridge? After 20 or so minutes I hear a knock on the door. "Okay Mulder, what the hell is this about?" Scully asks as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. "See anything different?" "What...happened?" "I was hoping you could help me explain that." She goes through a thorough accounting of the items, noticing the new objects even more than I did. When we reach the bedroom she grins, "Somehow I always suspected..." "I swear I didn't decorate this." I say awkwardly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and slipping off onto the floor. "What the?" Scully stifles a laugh, "It's a waterbed. I guess you didn't choose it." "But the question is how did it get here." I say while standing up, careful not to grab onto the mattress for support. She closes her eyes and when she opens them I can see her trying to reason out the facts. It's one of the things I love about her -- how I can always tell when she has an idea or has figured something out. "I...found a strange thing in my drawer while I was on the phone to you." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out one of the strangest things I've ever seen. "What is this?" I examine the object in my palm. "It looks like a penny and a dime but how they got this way...I couldn't even begin to guess." "Experience any missing time lately?" I ask with a smirk. She smiles in answer, "I think this would take more than nine minutes." "So, do we chalk this up to...?" She sighs, "I honestly have no idea. I guess we should go on as if nothing happened." "You know, this could be a dream." "A dream?" she asks skeptically. "Yes, my dream -- your dream." "I don't know whether or not to be scared that your dream would include those sheets" she motioned at the bed, walked over and looked up, "and a ceiling mirror?" "Now, it could be your dream." I say defensively. She turns around, "Don't flatter yourself." She says with a smirk and then reaches out and pinches my upper arm. "Ow!" I yelp and rub the sore spot. "Well, that disproved your hypothesis." She turns on her heel and walks out of the room. "Hey, it could still be your dream." I walk after her. "You don't argue with me in my dreams," Scully says and then tries to walk away, clearly knowing she said too much. "I'm in your dreams?" This is news to me, I wonder what I do in her dreams. She turns back towards me and I walk over to her. I give her the dime/penny back, dropping it into her open palm. She reddens slightly, "I spend most of my time with you Mulder, it's only natural that you sometimes show up in my dreams." "What am I doing in your dreams?" I ask softly, this really should not be turning me on but it is. "Investigating cases, talking on the phone...you know I think I'm going to run this dime and penny by the guys tonight, it's not too late." She sidesteps the question and walks towards the door. "Oh Scully?" "Yes?" She turns back towards me. "Sweet dreams," Okay, this time she definitely blushed. Once the door closes I can't help but smile, at least Scully is one part of my life that isn't stuck in neutral. I walk to the bedroom door, consider the bed for a second, but close my eyes and shudder at the thought of sleeping in it. The couch is comforting, normal, familiar...I can only take so much change at once. Ah Scully, sweet dreams indeed. END Author's Note: It started out as humor and then Mulder took over and when Scully entered the picture...well you saw what happened. Huge thanks to my beta readers Sue and Amanda. Please send all feedback to FirePhile@aol.com.