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scully-xo · 1 year

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X-Files Collector's Edition: My Favorites of suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueeueg's Cancer Arc Fic

ScullyLovesQueequeg, known as suitablyaggrieved here on Tumblr, is one of my angst authors I reread when I'm in the juicy angst mood. In one of those reread binges, I decided to highlight four of my favorite cancer arc pieces.

Loose chronological order below~

@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's

#4 Come Here, Let Me Fix It For You

""I’m sorry,” Mulder said, his apology minutes late, though sincere. “I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t be lecturing you. It’s none of my business what it is you do when you’re not working. Just know that I was worried when I got a call you were in the hospital.”

Scully was worrying the very tip of her thumb, chewing it to the point where it seemed almost unrecognizable. Mulder spoke and she glanced up at him, her eyes narrowing a bit, as if she were trying to complete a puzzle that was missing pieces.

“Thank you,” She said that lowly, as if forbidden, and that’s when Mulder noticed it. Her cross was not on her neck.

“Scully, what happened to your necklace?” He asked.""

Post Never Again-- Mulder's bristling over Scully's personal life melts in the face of her underlying fear. He makes it up to her by fixing her broken chain; and she opens up about what she needs from him.

Day 2 - You've Gone to the Bathroom 50 Times Today (Ao3)

""A silence fell between them and Scully felt a distinct throbbing pain just above her eye, that caused her lid to twitch. She stood up, and headed for the door.

“It’s not what you think,” She said, but Mulder stood and followed after her. Normally, she would have protested, but she did not this time, leaving the door to the water closet open. Mulder waited outside, leaning against the wall so he couldn’t see inside, since she had kept the door open.""

Pre-Memento Mori Scully is shocked Mulder's been watching her rush off to the bathroom all day. She assures it's not because of Jerse; and has his full but shaken support after expressing her fears of cancer.

Creeping Distress - Chapter 1 - Midnight Drive

""Well, there’s still time. We can’t do the Liberty Bell, but there’s other things to do. It’s only midnight. I know a diner we could go to, if you want.”

“That’s—that’s not what I meant.” Scully says, though she is smiling because Mulder is a good friend.

“I know. I know what you meant. I meant what I said, too. Thereis still time.""

Scully can't sleep after her latest treatment; and Mulder insists on driving her around until she gets sleepy.

Funeral For A Day

""She’s so frail and thin that it’s a miracle that she could even get out of bed, much less make it to the service. Bill is angry; he doesn’t understand, and rightfully so, how could he? Margret understands and she goes with her daughter, because she knows that there is something between them, somewhere past the late nights spent in the car. There has to be something in the fact that her daughter hasn’t seen any men since her partner chased away all her interest in them, years ago. Maybe it’s the fact that he lets Margret call him Fox and doesn’t correct her, and allows Bill to talk down on him. Maybe that’s the proof that there is a deeper connection....""

Unstated but arguably an AU to Gethsemane-- Scully and Maggie attend Mulder's funeral after he committed suicide. Maggie believes he had faith, even if he didn't believe in God.

There we go!

Enjoy!

#xf fanfic #angst #cancer arc #rec list #read these!!

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scully-xo · 1 year

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Second Noel

Author: @jewish-mulder

For: @scully-xo

He starts, brightening when the person on the other end picks up. “Scully, it’s me. About the charity ball. I’m sorry… No, I just wanted to ask—when is it? Because the way Hanukkah works, you don’t do it until the sun sets, so if it’s early enough… Two? That’s great! Yeah, we could—we could swing by the Gunmen’s place after a couple hours or so.” Mulder grins. “Yeah, that sounds great… Eugh, black tie? …Right. Maybe you should come over to help me pick out my outfit, in that case. I’d hate to wear blueberry blue while you stun the crowd in navy.” He laughs. “Yeah. I can’t wait. Yes. See you soon.”

Mulder hangs up the phone, the smile lingering on his face. “See, Kat?” he says, turning back to the fish. “Doing stuff does work.”

Link Here

#SecretSanta2022 7/28

Art: @dnscully

#a ball???#are you kidding me i need this in my life #this fic is absolutely perfect already and there's more to come!#scully family #gunmen #and mulder and scully dressed up #how could you ask for more <3 #xf fanfic

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scully-xo · 1 year

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Beautiful Collision

Author: @scully-xo For: @arrowgirl13 “You got somewhere to be, Scully,” he whispered. “Mmm, here. I gotta be here, Mulder.” aka they finally talk about the near-kiss in the hallway Link Here

#XFSecretSanta2022 12/28 Art: megdoesarttoo / @msrafterdark

#my fic!#excited to do my first exchange #post-how the ghosts stole christmas #how the ghosts stole christma #msr

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scully-xo · 1 year

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Beautiful Collision

aka they finally talk about what happened in Mulder’s hallway over peppermint tea

My fic for the @xfilesfanficexchange Secret Santa!

Read on AO3 - Rated T - 2183 words - @today-in-fic

Prompt: What does the rest of the night look like after “How The Ghosts Stole Christmas” by @arrowgirll13

“You got somewhere to be, Scully,” he whispered. “Mmm, here. I gotta be here, Mulder.”

***

What a change. Only about an hour ago, he’d been sitting in front of his TV, Maurice’s words sinking further into his mind. Taking root. Making him believe them, as much as he denied it in the house. He was just as stubborn as Scully, refusing to see what was in front of him—he was alone. On Christmas.

But then she’d shown up.

Not just the one person who put up with him. She was Scully. She was everything. The only one that mattered. The one person he wanted to be with on the holidays. And after last year, well, he was hoping she wanted to avoid family. But everything bad that happened in her life was his fault, wasn’t it? Why would she choose him?

But she was here.

Their empty mugs of peppermint tea sat on their new coasters on the coffee table in front of them, funny messages scrawled on their surfaces. A joke gift, but from her it meant everything. The way she blushed when he ripped open the package and laughed would sink in his mind forever. He was trying not to think too hard about the one she’d chosen for her mug: ‘Naughty is such a strong word, how about we go with Nice-ish’. He’d had plenty of dangerous thoughts about naughty Scully, especially since he’d almost kissed her. Who was he kidding? Since their first goddamned case.

His gift to her was his usual schtick. Something cheesy that reminded him of her, a sparkly ornament she could hang on the tree, though it didn’t fit in with all of the other decorations. She misinterpreted its meaning, because he didn’t tell her. But that was part of the gift. He wanted to know what it meant to her. That was the important part. It was selfish, but that’s who he was, wasn’t he?

The gurgling of the fishtank and ticking of the clock on the wall filled the comfortable silence as she dozed next to him. He thought she’d have left already, with dawn and presents and her family waiting for her. This time together, as short as it had been, would make the rest of his Christmas bearable, at least.

He still couldn’t believe she came over. And stayed.

She was facing him now, eyes closed and face soft in sleep. Her head had rolled over in sleep from where it had rested on the back of the couch, wisps of her hair barely touching his shoulder. Selfishness reared its ugly head. He could let her sleep. He could keep her here. He wanted to—but he wouldn’t.

Touching the tip of her nose with the side of his thumb, she let out a little yawn-moan and stretched next to him. He couldn’t help the smile that drifted on his face, and tried not to think about hearing her sleep-sounds in another context. Too late. Blood rushed to his groin and his eyes fell, catching the patch of skin between her button holes of her shirt and across her stomach as she raised her arms.

“You got somewhere to be, Scully,” he whispered.

“Mmm, here. I gotta be here, Mulder.” The words were rough and slurry and with her eyes nearly closed he wondered if she was still half-asleep. Still, it made his heart constrict, thinking that at least to him, this is where she belonged.

“Want me to drive you?” he asked. “You look like you could sleep for a week.”

“Mmm, thanks for that. But no.” She yawned again, and shook her head, blinking away the remnants of sleep. She didn’t get up, though, and he’s a weak man. He didn’t remind her of where she was supposed to be again.

“All of that… it happened, didn’t it?” she asked, as she chewed on her lower lip. “I felt the gunshot. The blood on my skin. But then it was gone, and…”

“It happened, but it didn’t.”

He can tell she doesn’t like the feeling of their night being a Schrödinger's kind of experience. She likes neat lines, things she can explain and file away. Things she can put in a box.

“Well, you’re real. And I’m real. We’re here. That’s something,” he conceded.

“Yeah.” She paused. “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“A few months ago. In your hallway. Before… before I got stung. I remember things, but I’m not sure if they happened or if it was a strange dream…”

“It happened, Scully,” he said, voice low and gravelly. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. His mouth went dry just thinking about how close they’d gotten. And now… were they actually going to talk about it?

He heard her wet her lips and the sound of her throat as she swallowed. He could picture what she looked like in his mind but he didn’t look. Instead, he stared straight ahead at the television, the blurry apparitions of their own faces barely visible in the dark screen. He remembered what he’d been watching before she came over. The smile on Ebeneezer’s face. The words he’d just said flashing through his mind. I don’t deserve to be so happy.

“Did you mean it?” Her voice was so soft and quiet, like he’d imagined the words. And there was something else. The fear that oozed from her pores in the haunted house tonight had returned, though there was a subtle quality to it now. A vulnerability.

He turned to her then, watching her profile, her eyes glued to the same blank TV. “Of course I meant it, Scully.”

She took a shaky breath. “I thought, maybe… if it was real, that you only said it to make me stay.” Her voice was so small, and he really saw her then. How everything that night had been seemed to her. She peered at him out of the corner of her eye. “So we could continue your work.”

“Our work, Scully.”

Her eyes filled with familiar skepticism, though tinged with something else now. Sorrow? Regret?

Mulder laid his arm across the back of the couch, facing her fully. “There is no work without you, Scully. Of course I wanted you to stay. Of course I need you for all of that.”

She nodded. She looked so damned small right now. It always took him aback when he was confronted with that fact. He always forgot because she loomed so large in his mind.

“Is that why you were going to kiss me?” she asked.

He sighed, closing his eyes at her words. At the memory he tried so hard to remember and yet at the same time to put it out of his mind. It tormented him—thinking that he’d come so close to something he could never have. He was such a fucking idiot. All this time he’d thought, perhaps, she wanted to forget that moment between them happened. That she was scared away, and moved back to the comfortable place of poking holes in every damned theory he came up with. It had been infuriating, after all they’d seen, that she’d backslid into the woman who pretended that the fantastical things they saw together never happened.

He never even considered she wasn’t sure any of it had happened. That she didn’t know his reasons for it. He was crazy about her. Not just as a partner or a friend. As the only person in his damned life. His other half. She was… she was Scully.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I—”

“I wasn’t going to leave, Mulder.” She touched him then, laying a small hand on his knee. That tiny bit of contact, innocuous and light, sent a lightning bolt through his leg, straight up his spine. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hair was standing on end. Scully as his very own Van de Graff generator.

“Uhh, what?” he asked.

“I was leaving the bureau, not you.”

I am such an idiot. He wanted to smack his forehead, but that would mean moving his hand from behind her, or from its place a few inches from her own. There was no way he was moving away from her right now. So, he closed his eyes and cursed at himself silently instead.

When he opened them again, things had shifted. Gone was the vulnerable, small woman who’d made a rare appearance only a few seconds ago. She was back to herself. The Scully he knew, but somehow more.

And she was looking at his lips with curiosity in her eyes. Hunger, maybe. He hoped it was hunger.

He swallowed.

“Is that the only reason you wanted to kiss me, Mulder? You wanted me to stay so we could work together?”

It sounded shitty. Egotistical and narcissistic, just like Maurice had told him. But it wasn’t just about the work. Of course it wasn’t. He’d dreamed of those lips: of pressing his own into their plushness, learning how she felt, how she tasted. It haunted his dreams. After the bee interrupted things, and she’d gone back to her old self, he thought it was a sign. That it wasn’t meant to be. He was destined for loneliness. For unhappiness.

He couldn’t lie to her, though. “It wasn’t the only reason.”

She tilted her head, her eyes sliding up to meet his. Definitely hunger. He swallowed again, and his hand shifted next to hers, his thumb grazing the side of her pinkie. He was suddenly very aware of how close their hands were to his lap. To his crotch. These damned jeans were growing tighter by the second.

Shifting slightly to adjust himself, he leaned in a bit closer. “I’ve wanted to kiss that pretty mouth for a long, long time, Scully.”

Her pupils blew open, and her mouth dropped. He smelled peppermint on her breath. Not for long though. He crossed the rest of the distance and finally let his mouth land on hers, and he tasted it instead.

She stiffened for just a moment, then reacted: meeting him with matched fervor, as he always knew she would. Her hands wound around his neck, scratching through his hair and sending little shocks trembling over his skin, straight to his groin. Their tongues met, their teeth and noses clashing together until they found a rhythm. Like they always did, right from their very first meeting.

As he tasted her—memorizing the ridges of her mouth, the sharpness of her teeth, the sounds she made—he couldn’t help comparing this kiss to the images of binary stars he’d seen in a recent report from NASA. They’d crashed together by some yet unknowable force, making something bigger and more wondrous than what they’d had separately. And while this magnificent collision had now taken physical form, he knew it originated years ago, back when she’d first walked into his office. Wearing her prim suit, wide eyes and a smile, she took every strange thing they encountered in stride even though he knew it shook her to her core. And he knew—knew—he couldn't have done it without her. He’d be stuck in that basement, chasing leads that led nowhere.

He fisted her hair, maybe a bit too tightly, but she moaned into his mouth when he did it. She was above him, now, sitting in his lap, grinding herself onto the growing stiffness in his jeans.

Was exhaustion another kind of intoxication? He didn’t want her to regret this once she had her head on straight. With every ounce of willpower, he leaned back, pulling their mouths apart.

She made a cute little whine in protest, and his cock jumped.

“Jesus, Scully.”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain on his birthday?” Her mouth tilted upwards. He stared at those gorgeous swollen lips, even more plush and kissable after he’d sucked on them for who the fuck knows how long. Too long. Never long enough.

“You need to go to your family’s.” He rubbed her back. It was something he’d done before, dozens of times. But every touch felt different now. Electric. Monumental. A prelude.

“Come with me,” she said, peppering kisses over his face.

Mulder sighed, feeling his protests melt away with every graze of her mouth on his skin. “I don’t want to intrude—” he said meekly.

“My mom invited you.” She pulled back, a guilty look on her face. “I didn't know you didn’t have plans. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ll be okay, Scully. Just me and Scrooge. He’s like a kindred spirit.”

She looked at him for a few long seconds, her fingers doing something delightful along the muscles of his shoulders and neck. Then she nodded, her mouth set in a line. “You’re coming.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She giggled, then pressed her mouth against his in a soft kiss. He liked this, too. He wanted to discover every kind of kiss, every touch. Every sound and sigh. What he could do to make them.

As she stood and pulled him up with her, he thought, perhaps, he’d get what he wanted this year. Or maybe he already had.

End.

#xf fanfic #msr #xfiles #pining #ust to rst #they finally talk imagine that #and maybe a bit more than talk #😏😏😏#how the ghosts stole christmas #secret santa #xfiles fanfic exchange

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scully-xo · 2 years

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Now complete! “Quantum Files”

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, pre-series canon divergence, pining, angst, MSR

word count: 12k, rated t

@today-in-fic @xffictober2022

Their connection was tenuous - always had been. It began in person, a few brief moments he cherished, but it had been forged from light, her projected image shining out at him. Now she flickered, crackled - tiny lightning-bolts arcing through her façade. Or was it all in his head? Had his visions of her become more real than her manifestations? Or with each leap, was he surely, inevitably, fraying the threads that let her appear to him? Would the day come that he wouldn’t see her at all? Or would he continue like normal, talking to a figment that truly wasn’t there?

Read on AO3

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

***

Chapter 7

Keep reading

#reblog #xf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #canon divergence #crossover #angst #pining #xfiles #the x-files

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scully-xo · 2 years

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Now complete! “Quantum Files”

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, pre-series canon divergence, pining, angst, MSR

word count: 12k, rated t

@today-in-fic @xffictober2022

Read on AO3

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

***

Chapter 7

Keep reading

#reblog #catching the later crowds :)#xf fanfic #msr #txf #xfiles #thexfiles #mulder and scully #scully x mulder #scully and mulder #mulder x scully

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scully-xo · 2 years

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Now complete! “Quantum Files”

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, pre-series canon divergence, pining, angst, MSR

word count: 12k, rated t

@today-in-fic @xffictober2022

Read on AO3

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

***

Chapter 7

After dropping off his cargo, Mulder learned that it was 1978. Too late. Too early. So, he led Jared Sica’s life as best he could. His wallet didn’t contain any photos of a family. Only a few crumpled bills and plastic cards. A rosary was wrapped around the rear-view mirror, but he had to stow it away in the glove compartment. It was one thing to want to hold on to memories of Scully, to remember what she looked like and the steady sibilance of her voice. It was entirely different to be reminded with every glance as he drove that he would never see or hear it again.

Instead of getting another payload, and continuing his cross-country lonesome journey, he found himself hanging around the same area. Driving by Vicky’s aunt’s place. He never saw her, but he wondered. It was safer than his other thoughts.

Several times, he passed by the place where he’d found her. The oil tanker was long gone. The weather turned, the brightness of summer burning away the mist. Each time he drove past, wheels grumbling on the asphalt, he wished for the fog. Maybe if it returned, Scully would come back, materializing through the wall of trees. Her unsubstantial light morphing into something real. It wouldn’t happen, couldn’t, but still he wished for it.

Soon, he’d have to move on. Jared had savings, and Mulder was Jared and could do what he wanted. He could use his savings, sell his truck, move near Vicky, and make sure she’d be okay. It was the only thing he could think to do that might make a difference. After all, he was five years too late to save Samantha.

But some part of him wouldn’t let him. A little nugget of hope. Maybe Scully would find a way. If anyone could, it would be her. He didn’t let himself linger on that idea very much. Usually just in the moments before he fell asleep. When he reached out and pretended to run his fingers through her crimson hair. At this moment, it was just as real as every other time he tried to do it. Just like those other times, he’d feel nothing, as his hand moved through space instead. It felt real. Maybe pretending would be enough.

***

Mulder was passing by the stretch of road once again. It was the trees that gave the spot away. Something he’d even noticed in the mist, and was even more obvious in the bright glare of a summer sun. Two massive redwoods, side by side, crossing as they rose into the sky. It made a giant ‘X’, screaming that this was spot. This was it. Where he’d lost her.

He parked, pulling onto the gravelly shoulder, and approached the trees. Up close, he was dwarfed by them. It was a dizzying effect, and he laid his hand on the tough, spongy bark and inhaled the spicy-sweet scent. Bowed his head. In his pocket he carried Jared’s rosary and he fingered the chipped wooden beads. How much of the trucker did he carry with him? Would Jared’s God answer his prayers, fooled by the deception?

Even if Jared believed, and Scully, Mulder didn’t. He sighed, stretched his back, sore from sitting for so long. Then he unzipped his pants and pissed against the tree instead.

“Mulder.”

“Shit!” He spun around, dick in his hand, spraying everywhere, to see Scully standing next to him.

Her eyes flicked down, then back up to his face. “Um…”

Turning his back to her, stuffing himself in his pants, he whipped around again. “Scully!”

Her cheeks blazed. Her hair shone in the sun. Looked just like he remembered, better than any sunrise.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, her expression turned serious. “We don’t have much time. Where are you?”

“I’m, uh… right where I should be, I think?” He wanted to reach out and hug her. Wrap himself around her, like Vicky’s aunt. “God, Scully… you did it.”

Then he noticed her face. Drawn, thin. Her straight nose stood out, her cheekbones soared. Eyes a dull blue. Of course she’d done it. And it had cost her.

She nodded, looking around. “You were driving. Can you get to the same place? Even if you’re within a few yards I think I can manage it.”

“I remember, Scully.”

Standing a few feet away, she looked up at him. Hesitated. “I don’t want to go,” she said, biting her lip.

He kneeled in front of her. Felt the stones of the rosary in his pocket jam against his leg. The weight of the device around his neck.

“It’s never changed, Scully.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I believe in you.”

Nodding, her back straightening, she gave him one last smile before stepping back into the shadows of the trees around them. Disappearing, hopefully, for the last time.

>>>FLASH<<<

His whole body ached. Limbs felt like he’d been torn apart and put back together again, over and over. His eyes felt like he’d been standing in a sand storm.

He coughed. Throat was dry. Stomach felt like it had shrunk to the size of a pea. Like he hadn’t had any food or water in three months. Maybe he hadn’t.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw the familiar capsule surrounding him. Trapping him inside. And across the plastic barrier, dark and dreamlike, was Scully. They were in the same room as before, but the lights were off. The screens surrounding him, and the ones near Scully, were the only source of light. She stood there, eyes wide.

“Wanna…” he croaked, his voice rough with disuse. Coughed again. Pulled against his restraints.

Instead of Scully, it was Mario in front of him, unlocking the door and pulling him out. Scully hadn’t moved.

“Slow now,” Mario supported him, half-carrying him from the chair onto another one. “There ya go.”

Everything was under plastic sheets. Packed away. Chairs lifted from the ground onto long rows of tables. Cables strewn along the tiled floors. He craned his head to look where he’d last seen Scully. She was gone. Disappeared. Was this a dream? Would they taunt him, for the rest of his life?

Small hands laid upon his shoulders. They trembled. He opened his eyes and saw her.

“Mulder.”

“Hey.”

“You’re really here.”

His eyes burned, but he kept them open until tears formed, turning her into an indistinct apparition. But she was there. He felt the touch of her hands as they patted over his arms, up his neck, over his cheeks. When her thumbs grazed over his lips, he nearly jumped from the contact. Her breath was sweet, minty. She smelled like sweat and soap. As much as he loved seeing her and hearing her, knowing she was there, it was all the rest of his senses catching up that convinced him this was real.

“God, Scully.”

Her face twisted, tears falling from her eyes, though she didn’t stop staring at him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay Scully. You did it. I’m home.”

Nodding, silent, she bowed her head against his chest. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and held him close. It was a loose embrace, nothing like the bruising hug he witnessed between Vicky and her aunt. But with every second that passed, holding her and laying his cheek against her soft hair, he felt himself twining around her. Making an endless thread, her and him, that could never be unraveled.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. Shining, bright, hopeful for the first time in weeks. Months.

Then he kissed her.

End.

#xf fanfic #mulder and scully #msr #txf #canon divergence #crossover #quantum files #i write #scully x mulder #dana scully #fox mulder #pining #angst #the x-files #xfiles #angst with a happy ending #hope you enjoyed taking this journey with me #completed fic #complete

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files part 6 of 7

Fictober, part 6 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 2920/10854, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of), Angst

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

https://youtu.be/y9Hqn8x6a8s / ‘Songbird’ by Fleetwood Mac

***

Chapter 6

It came after 6 days. The last leap. Not a week! Mulder wanted to yell. You cheated me out of a day! But, of course, no one was listening.

Keep reading

#reblog #xf fanfic #msr #txf #mulder and scully #angst #pining #scully x mulder #dana scully #fox mulder

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files part 6 of 7

Fictober, part 6 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 2920/10854, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of), Angst

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

https://youtu.be/y9Hqn8x6a8s / ‘Songbird’ by Fleetwood Mac

***

Chapter 6

It came after 6 days. The last leap. Not a week! Mulder wanted to yell. You cheated me out of a day! But, of course, no one was listening.

With each unsuccessful leap home, three altogether, Scully drew inside herself. The few smiles he’d wrangled out of her in their time together were long gone. She didn’t ask him questions, nor did she answer his when he attempted to change the subject. It was like she only had energy to exist in his space while she was here. To sit silently and watch the world around them. He caught her looking at him, like she wanted to memorize his face. It was something he recognized, because he was trying to do it himself.

He was in a semi, driving along a deserted highway. Tall green redwoods on either side told him he was on the north-west coast. Gray skies and rain-blackened asphalt beneath told him it was spring.

He’d never driven one of these giant trucks, but like everything else he knew how to do when he leaped into a body, it felt completely natural. His gnarled, wrinkled hands knew which levers to push to activate the windshield wipers. His feet moved on the accelerator with just enough force to drive smoothly. Fog began to move over the road, wispy apparitions that looked like they were materializing from the trees themselves. He slowed, applying precise pressure to the brakes, and scanned the road ahead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed Scully appear. Her hair was escaping from the ponytail she wore, crimson tendrils cascading over her neck. She never looked more tired. Hopefully this would be one of the last times she would appear to him, and things would go back to how they were… before.

“Just… be careful, Mulder.”

He didn’t turn his head, heeding her advice and keeping his eyes peeled on the road ahead. Pushing the brake a little bit more, he slowed to a speed that would surely aggravate anyone traveling behind him. So far, though, it was deserted.

He reached his hand to the console between them. The barrier was nothing compared to the one that separated them by an unknown distance and time. Somehow, he didn’t have to look to sense that she put her hand near his, her pinkie intersecting with his own.

“Don’t do anything heroic. Stick to the plan.”

He turned then, for a brief second, and gave her a tight smile. “Me? Heroic. Think you have the wrong guy, Scully.”

He heard her sigh, then everything was quiet. The rain began to spatter on the car, dotting the windshield with translucent spheres in an unpredictable pattern. Like his leaps. Moving from one person to another. No determining factor except they were all normal folk, people who had bad things happen to them. Moments in time that created a forked path. The raindrops made rivulets against the glass, then were washed away by the wipers, only to start over. Again and again.

Sometimes, he wouldn’t know what decision he would have to make. But today, the moment seemed obvious. Ahead of him, the bright lights of another semi shone against the mist, fuzzy and indistinct. Unmistakable, though, in the long stretch of road.

Mulder braked, and the truck hissed and slowed as he pulled over to the shoulder of the deserted highway. He switched on the hazard lights. Turned to Scully, her outline indistinct like the fog that swarmed outside the cab.

“Remember, Mulder.” Her eyes pleaded with him and then she was gone.

He stared at the passenger seat for a few seconds, repeating her words to him like a mantra. Of course, he’d remember. How could he not? Switching on the CB radio, he turned the dial to the channel that most drivers used to communicate with each other, and spoke into the mike.

“Any trouble over there? Over.”

Only the crackle of static. But underneath it, oh so quiet, he thought he heard a voice.

Hanging up the mike, Mulder checked the side-mirror for any traffic and jumped down to the road, his hand grasping familiar handholds so he wouldn’t stumble. The truck ahead of him was carrying oil or natural gas, its rotund trailer appearing in the mist as he walked forward. The gravel underneath his cowboy boots crunched, and he hunched into his jean jacket and ratty ballcap. Did the previous driver continue on, concerned with his own payload?

As the other semi solidified as he grew closer, his own truck all but disappeared. One last look behind him, one more hesitation. I have to do this right. He knocked, a loud double rap that shattered the foggy silence around him. No response.

“Hey, need any help in there?” he shouted, stepping onto the running board and peering into the cab. The windows were rolled up against the rain. Wiping the moisture from the window and cupping his hands around his eyes, he looked closer, but all he saw was the faint outline of seats in the darkness. No one slumped over the steering wheel, or against the window. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t what he was supposed to fix?

As he stepped down, though, he heard something. The same noise he’d heard on the radio, but louder. A voice, high-pitched and muffled. He couldn’t hear what they said, but he knew the tone. Fear. Desperation.

Maybe this was where he was supposed to be.

There was a switchblade sheathed on his belt. He retrieved it and flipped it open with a flick of his wrist. Testing the handle of the door to the sleeper of the cab, finding it unlocked, he eased it open silently.

“Hey, what the fuck?” a gruff voice from deep inside the cab yelled out.

The driver scrambled for something, but Mulder didn’t wait. He lept into the cab and tackled him against the opposite door. Thank god, the body he inhabited, despite his age, was fit and strong. Wiry muscle and adrenaline fueling his effort to hold him down, to pin his arms behind his back and press his face against the seat.

And then Mulder saw her.

A girl, no more than 14. Julie. Was it her? Or had he forgotten her face?

She was huddled at the far end of the sleeper, holding onto her left arm. Her face was bloodied, her bottom lip swollen. Green eyes, red-rimmed and furious, shone out at him over an oversized sweatshirt. Tattered jeans and tennis shoes curled up against her chest.

He saw red; his own on rage drowning out every other thought. When he slammed the driver against the wall, heedless of whatever metal handles or knobs dug into the other man’s face, he squealed in pain.

“This ain’t what it looks like. She’s my niece.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mulder gripped the knife. He knew what to do with it. This person he inhabited must have been a hunter. Slide the knife right here, that was the kidney. Or maybe a bit lower, the stomach, to make it painful. No less than he deserved.

“Do it.” a hoarse voice commanded.

Mulder looked back. Julie, or not-Julie, watched from the shadows, back straight and a dangerous glint in her eyes. But her hand trembled as she held onto her injured arm. Even if she could take some satisfaction from it, he couldn’t kill this guy in front of her. More violence in an already violent life. He had a choice, and he would make the right one this time. For her. What he needed to do was make sure she would be okay. That she would be safe. That she couldn’t disappear again. Run off into the darkness, only to find someone else to victimize her.

He should radio the police. Get this fucker put away so he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. But who knew how long he’d have to stay, needing to be a witness for a crime the person who’s body he inhabited wouldn’t remember?

There was only one thing to do. Mulder cold-cocked the guy, leaving him unconscious on the narrow floor of the sleeper cab. He turned to Julie.

“I’m gonna help you, okay? Take you somewhere safe.”

“You’re not gonna kill him?”

“I’m gonna radio some guys I know, they’ll take him to the police–”

“No police.”

Mulder sat on the seat, keeping his distance. Nodded. “No police. But you need that arm checked out.”

Fear flashed through her eyes for a second, disappearing under her defiant mask. “No hospital.”

“Where can I take you?”

Her jaw clenched. “Who the fuck are you? How do I know you’re not just like him?”

“Name’s Mulder.” Fuck. That wasn’t the name of this guy. Too late. He sighed, then snapped his blade closed and handed it to her.

“What kind of name’s Mulder?” She took the knife, drawing her hand along the pearl-inlay. Fumbling with the switch, she opened it with an awkward grip..

He shrugged.

“That guy has a gun. I think I want that instead.” She held the knife at him, though it wavered in her hand.

Directing him under the driver’s seat, he found not only a rifle but a semi-automatic pistol, still in its holster. He unlatched it, and made sure the safety was on before handing it to her. She didn’t seem to notice, her shoulders relaxing visibly as she held onto the cold steel.

“Where can I take you?” Mulder asked. “Is there someone who can help you?”

She bit her lip, looked past him at the unconscious truck driver lying on the floor of the sleeper. Then her gaze shifted to Mulder. “I was… I was going to my aunt’s. She’s a vet tech. She…”

“Tell me where. I’ll take you.”

Julie nodded, scrambling off the bed of the sleeper and out of the cab. She stumbled as she jumped down, awkwardly holding onto the weapon with the hand of her injured arm, but Mulder didn’t intervene, just watched to make sure she wouldn’t hurt herself. He followed at a safe distance, pointing towards his truck to the rear of this one. The mist had cleared somewhat, in the few, short minutes that he’d found this girl. Ahead and behind them his truck appeared, a ghostly apparition in the fog. It’s black paint and shining grille a beacon, pulling them forward.

When they were settled inside, Julie sitting behind him awkwardly pointing the gun, he radioed the people that this body knew. Told them what they’d find here on the stretch of deserted road. Mulder had no doubt that the silence and whispered curses on the other end meant bad things for the other driver. If he was killed or badly beaten, at least it wasn’t in front of the girl.

When he revved the engine and left the tanker truck behind them, they both breathed easier. Like another chapter was ahead, and surely it was a better one.

Julie scrounged up food from the mini-fridge he had stashed in the back. The gun laid beside her, only a few inches from her hands at all times, while she got crumbs all over the upholstery. He passed back his thermos, which he tasted and thought only had coffee in it. The radio blared, tuned to a country station and he switched to it one they both preferred: classic rock. Though maybe it wasn’t so classic for her. Mulder hummed along and drummed his fingers over the steering wheel and attempted to make small talk. To find out about her. Her glare caught him in the rear-view mirror, and he stopped pretending he could be more than a temporary blip in her life.

And beside him in the passenger seat, Scully appeared. Her image blinked furiously, then solidified, though the edges of her body reminded him of the fog he was quickly leaving behind.

“Mulder.”

He didn’t look at her. He knew what she was going to say.

“You have to turn around, Mulder.”

He shook his head, enough so she would know that he was answering, but hopefully not enough that Julie would find anything amiss.

“You’re going to miss the window, Mulder. Please. She’s safe now. That’s-that’s what it means.”

He turned his head slightly, pleading with his eyes, and he wished he hadn’t. Hands twisted in her lap, Scully was chewing on her lower lip and watching him with an agonized expression. She knew as well as he did what he was going to do.

It meant he was gone. It meant he’d be in this body forever, that the trucker would be, essentially, dead. It would mean he’d never get his answers. Would never know the touch of Scully’s hand, the feel of her lips on his own. He’d never get to live his life by her side. It’s what he wanted. More than anything. Now that it was torn from his grasp, that he would never have it, that idea solidified in his mind, as real as the trees that grew beside him. As real as the road under his truck’s tires. A fact. But just as true as knowing she was the person he was meant to love, was that he would never get to show her.

But giving all of that up would mean Julie was safe. It was a choice he’d make over and over again.

“Please, Mulder.”

The song changed, and Mulder sang along, glancing at Scully as long as the road allowed, and as long as he could stand to see her face.

“And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score… And I love you, I love you, I love you like never before.”

“Mulder–” Scully reached out and the absence of her hand moved against his. The heat from the sun, blazing through the trees as they drove from the mist, warmed his hand, and he imagined it’s how she would feel.

“And I wish you all the love in the world but most of all, I wish it from myself.”

Julie didn’t interrupt, or tell him to stop. Perhaps she liked the song. Perhaps she heard the tremor of emotion in his voice as he said the words to the woman who she didn’t see.

“Mulder, I know you can’t do anything else. I dreaded the day this would happen. Knew it would, eventually. And maybe that’s why I fell in love with you, too.” Her voice faded, becoming thready and weak. “I’ll– I’ll do what I can, but…”

“I know.”

A four-way came up, and he stopped. Julie was asleep in the back. Facing Scully, he reached his hand up to cup her face. She leaned into it, and he imagined he could feel her light.

“It was enough, you know. Meeting you. If this is all it can be, it’s enough.” Mulder caressed his thumb over her cheeks. It was only electromagnetic radiation. And maybe not even that. Chemicals firing in his brain. Making him pretend to see an illusion.

“I should have–”

“No, Scully. You did what you could. I need– I need you to move on. Don’t blame yourself. Please. I need to know you’re out there living. It’s the only thing that’ll keep me going.”

“If I know you’re out there, Mulder. I can find you. I can.”

“I know you can’t see me. But look at me. I’m at least sixty. How old are you now? Whatever time this is?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. I don’t want that for you.”

“Goddamned self-sacrificing asshole.” She smiled sadly, and pulled away, looking out the window. “I’ll stay as long as I can but… I might disappear without any warning.”

“I’ll take it.”

Her eyes were wet, but her face dry, as she looked at him. “Goodbye, Mulder.”

“Bye, Scully.”

Their hands found each other, and at least they occupied the same space if they couldn’t touch.

She stayed for thirty minutes, and then she was gone. Eyes burning with unshed tears, he looked straight ahead, pretending that there was a ghost in the seat next to him. Julie was quiet, and he was thankful.

He drove for another two hours. Julie got to her aunt’s house. Not Julie - Vicky. Her aunt screamed her real name as she ran up to the girl stumbling out of his truck and wrapped her in a giant hug. Mulder looked away at that, blinking back tears. He should have smiled at his success, but he felt empty.

Mulder got back on the highway. He knew where he was supposed to take his cargo. He would be penalized for being late. His heart ached.

Pulling into a truck stop despite his tardiness, he laid on the bed in the back of his cab. The light of dawn shone on the horizon before his mind was empty enough to fall asleep.

He didn’t dream.

#xf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #scully x mulder #canon divergence #pre-series #quantum leap #crossover #quantum files #txf #the x-files #xfiles #pining #angst #last chapter to come on tuesday #thanks for reading everyone its been a wild ride!

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files part 5 of 7

Fictober, part 5 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 929/7934, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of)

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4

***

Chapter 5

Keep reading

#reblog #xf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #scully x mulder #fox mulder #dana scully #crossover #quantum leap

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files part 5 of 7

Fictober, part 5 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 929/7934, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of)

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4

***

Chapter 5

Another few weeks of leaping, though the excitement gave way under another pressure. The need for answers in his own life. Samantha. Had he given up too quickly? Had his parents? What did they know, that they didn’t tell him?

The dreams morphed. Dreams, not nightmares. Every time he woke, it felt like experiencing memories instead of random firing of neurons, making up a story in his head.

Samantha called to him for help. He was frozen, but it felt like it came from outside. Like someone was making him unable to help. A craggy-faced man who smoked cigarettes talked with his mother. His father said something about a decision and closed the door in his face. They had to be memories.

Was Samantha abducted by aliens?

And Scully… Scully was quieter. Rarely smiled. The shadows under her eyes deepened. Sometimes when she visited she just slept. Laid beside him, arm folded under her head, closed her eyes. She couldn’t lean on him, but he pretended she could. He sat just so, the light from her projection next to his. Wavelength and cell. He’d have to ask her about it one day, how it all worked.

“I got accepted to medical school,” she said suddenly.

“That’s… that’s great.” She wasn’t looking at him. Her voice was flat. Was it just exhaustion or was there something else underpinning her words? “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. Ever since I was little.”

“Why physics, then, instead of biology?”

She turned, then, to look at him. He imagined her hand brushed against his leg, instead of moving through it. “I think… I didn’t want to understand just how the human body worked. I wanted to understand why.”

He nodded. The future. She’d be a doctor. A surgeon maybe, operating on people’s brains. Or exchanging hearts. Connecting the very things that made us who we are. And what did his future hold?

“You’ll be a great doctor, Scully.”

She smiled, but it faded. Shadows clouding her eyes. “Why?”

He tilted his head at her. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t even bring you back, Mulder, I–”

“What does that have to do with being a doctor?”

“If I can’t do this right, how can I hope to do the rest?”

He laid beside her, their faces inches apart. Yet miles and years, too. It would have to be enough, for now.

“You didn’t have all the details, Scully. I can’t imagine how complicated–”

“I don’t care that I didn’t know everything before this started. I’ve had weeks, months to sort it out. I should have solved it by now.”

“Hey.” He wanted to take her in his arms. Fold around her. But he remained where he was, refusing to break the illusion that she wasn’t really there. “Take it easy on yourself. Not even Singh or Gallagher knew this was going to happen.”

“You don’t understand. I have to do it. Everyone else—” Her eyes squeezed shut, face contorting into a grimace. “Mulder, I…” Sighing, she opened her eyes, blinking away her tears. “They’re shutting down the study.” She choked out the words, like it hurt to say them.

His heart dropped. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago he thought he could do this forever? Now that it was a possibility, he couldn’t stand waiting another second. Ignoring his instinct to yell and scream, to shout to the sky at how unfair all of this was, he clenched his jaw and sat up.

“It’s just Mario and I now, Mulder.”

“They’re just giving up? After keeping all of this from you?”

“They’re-they’re getting heat from the administration. The experiment uses a lot of power and they want results. They’ve held them back so far, but… The others have left, as requested. We’ve been doing our best…”

“Scully.”

“We’ve only got time for a few more leaps, Mulder. I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head, tracing the pattern of the rug underneath him. Swirling orange circles in a field of blue. It reminded him of her hair. Her eyes. And, though her projection was exactly as he remembered, it was merely a good copy. A perfect one. But it wasn’t the real thing.

He laid back down, moving as close as he could without breaking the illusion. “You’ll manage. You’ll get me back. I believe in you, even if you don’t.” He reached his hand out, splaying his fingers wide. She mimicked the gesture, the gap between their hands distorting the closer they got to each other.

“I don’t want to leave,” she said. Her eyes shone, then they closed. A tear escaped, running sideways down her face. Though it fell, it would never reach the floor of the apartment that was his current home.

He willed himself to stay calm, at least for her sake. “Stay a bit longer. You need to rest. Then we’ll think of something.”

She was wrestling with something, but eventually she gave in and nodded and closed her eyes.

Did she struggle with the same thing as he did? The need for her to be close. To talk to her. They didn’t have much time left. Even though he pretended to hope for her sake, it would be fitting, for him, to lose the one person he felt he finally had a connection with. His person. Did it count as murder, if he leaped into someone and stayed there?

She slept for an hour. Then she was gone, once again. It was unfair, but it couldn’t be any other way.

She couldn’t save him while she was here.

#xf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #scully x mulder #canon divergence #quantum leap #quantum files #slow burn #pining #i write

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files - part 4 of 7

Fictober, part 4 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 1101/7005, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of)

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3

***

Chapter 4

Keep reading

#reblog #msr #txf #x-files #the x-files #xf fanfic #thank you all for reading 💗

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scully-xo · 2 years

Text

Quantum Files - part 4 of 7

Fictober, part 4 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 1101/7005, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of)

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3

***

Chapter 4

As the weeks passed, Mulder became more energized. He’d found a purpose. Fixing things for people, adapting to their worlds. Knowing that whatever he did, he left things better rather than worse. Though it wasn’t like he did anything special. If the same people he inhabited had a chance to fix things, wouldn’t they do the same?

Mulder relished each chance to discover how other people lived. It was one thing, as a psychologist, to try to understand where people were coming from. Leaping into people, inhabiting their lives for a day or two, was an entirely different scenario. He wouldn’t claim to know exactly what people’s lives were like, not having the years of history living in it, but it was better than any attempt at understanding from the outside. Seeing how people reacted. Feeling the exhaustion of chronic pain, the absence of missing limbs, the way the world was built for able white men like himself.

He wanted to know more. Excitement traveled up his spine when he knew he was about to leap. He found himself hoping that this adventure he found himself on wouldn’t end. Only one thing tied him to the world he was supposed to call home: Scully.

While he was invigorated as time went on, with each leap into a different life, he saw her struggle. The exhaustion in the way she held herself. Shoulders slumped instead of straight. Dark circles under her eyes. Her skin looked more sallow, like she never went outside. She probably didn’t. The weight of his situation landed square on her shoulders. With each leap that didn’t send him back, she took responsibility. Blamed herself. Even when he tried to convince her otherwise, the stubborn set of her mouth told him she wouldn’t rest, wouldn’t be comforted, until he was returned.

“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?” he asked her one day. They were sitting outside, in the shade of a copse of trees. This body was a farmer named Gail. Lanky and sun-damaged leathery skin. He was beginning to forget what his own body looked like. Scully still saw him, though, and he could ask her if he really wanted to.

She was laying on the grass, watching as Mulder picked apart a pussy willow. The buds scattered in the light breeze, carried away over the wide fields that surrounded them. He thought, perhaps, their conversations were the only time she let herself relax. So he did the only thing he thought would help: he convinced her to stay longer each time.

“Logically, I would have to say no,” she responded.

He grinned, shaking his head. Of course, she wouldn’t believe. His pinnacle of skepticism.

“Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft’s capabilities–”

“Conventional wisdom, Scully.” He waved his hand around him. “A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have thought all of this possible.”

“It’s been six weeks, Mulder.” She frowned, her mind turning away from the field they laid upon, back to the lab where she worked to get him back.

He leaned forward. “This guy, Scully, he believes.”

“And you do, too?”

Nodding, Mulder grabbed another pussy willow and started dissecting it. “There’s so many stars up there. Isn’t it more plausible that an advanced civilization evolved millenia before us, that they discovered a way?”

“And, what, they’ve decided to just hang back and watch? If they’re so advanced why have they only shown themselves to a select few? If the government is hiding something, what’s to prevent these advanced beings from telling everyone the truth?”

“Maybe they operate on levels we cannot understand.”

She grinned, biting back a laugh. “Oh, okay.” Looking up at the sun, making its way across the sky, he saw her mood shift. “I should–”

“Stay.”

“Mulder…”

“Just a little while longer.”

She sighed, but once her gaze shifted to his and she saw the need in his eyes, she nodded. That was real, at least, the need for her to stay. Always, she would return, but for now he had her next to him. Not for the first time he wished she was more than a projection. That they could leap into bodies together, discover all the little parts of this world, all the stories that people had to tell that they would never have learned otherwise.

Mulder told her about Gail. How he had an office full of pictures on the walls. Things that he might have taken himself. Triangular-shaped crafts in the sky. Mulder leafed through the journals stacked on the desk - absorbed by accounts of abduction. Maybe he was a little… obsessed. But there might have been a good reason for it. His bed was a double, and when he awoke in this body, he laid on one side rather than the middle. A vanity with bottles of creams and cosmetics stood in a corner, dust coating the surfaces. A wispy robe laid across the chair. Perhaps Gail’s wife was simply gone, left. Went to the city and moved on, but Mulder didn’t think so.

Despite her skepticism, Scully listened. And she only rolled her eyes once in the extra hour that he got to keep her. When she left, Mulder headed back into the farmhouse, into Gail’s office, and read into the night.

When he lept into the next body, he didn’t stop thinking about Gail.

***

His dreams didn’t stop. He couldn’t call them nightmares anymore. They called to him, like they were sending him a message. One he couldn’t ignore anymore, especially after experiencing Gail’s life. He saw his sister, the night she’d been taken. He was supposed to be watching her, but he fell asleep. For months he imagined what happened - monsters under the bed, men at the window. In one version, she crawled out and got hit by a car on the road near their house. There was no one to comfort him when he woke screaming, his mother passed out or tranquilized in her grief. Now though, they were all the same. She floated out the window. And there was a light. Bright, shining. It hurt his eyes, but he couldn’t close them. He was paralyzed.

Was he remembering? Or were they just dreams, his imagination inserting new ideas into his subconscious?

He kept these thoughts close to his chest. Scully wouldn’t believe him. She would think he was crazy. That he’d taken a part of Gail within himself. Maybe she’d wonder if he kept pieces of everyone he lept into. And maybe that would be true.

#xf fanfic #msr #txf #mulder and scully #scully x mulder #canon divergence #quantum leap #quantum files #slow burn #pining #the x-files #i write #fictober22

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