Title: Yielding to Yesterday
Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
SPOILER:: I like All Things. So, I'm posting an All Things post-ep story.
Requiem is too dark and bitter of a place for me to write. This is not
post-Requiem.

=====
Yielding to Yesterday
=====

Yesterday, she had walked softly into his dark room with her shoulders
shrouded in his Indian blanket. The storm had lulled him into a drowsy,
numbed state, but her presence made him aware of the room and the heat and
the smell of her body. For a moment, a flash of lightning had illuminated
her soft, confused eyes, and he had stopped pretending to be asleep.

"Scully?" he whispered.

She had come to his bedside and sat down, then traced the shadow of a
raindrop against his chest. It raced her finger with the speed and quickness
of the storm outside and disappeared at his belly button. She paused to look
up at him again, and the confusion was gone. There was only purpose and
confidence in her eyes.

That was yesterday.

===

There were things to get done today. Notes to type up, expense reports,
hearings to account for every bullet fired and every man hour used on
various cases. It was standard procedure and theirs had been rescheduled so
many times that OPR was getting restless.

Scully had two autopsies and there was a note on his computer screen:

I'll call.

That was all. He was happy for that much, and he placed the yellow post-it
on his desk, right where he could see it. The morning went by quickly. It
was technically only the day after, but it felt like two days after. She had
come to him in the morning, the earliest hours of the morning, and stayed in
his bed. But she had left that day.

It was tomorrow, and he had a note on his desk with her smooth handwriting
and the promise of a meeting at one. Would she come back to eat lunch with
him today? Sometimes, she was too busy, and other times, she surprised him--

The phone was ringing. He snatched it up.

"Mulder," he answered, fingering the note.

"Hey. I just got finished. Are you hungry?"

He grinned. "Yes. And the OPR meeting's not till one. We've got an hour and
a half. Where do you want to go?"

He could almost hear her smiling.

"Meet me in the lobby--we can decide from there."

They hung up at the same time.

===

The lobby seemed too large and too busy when Mulder managed to work his way
through the crowds. Tourists and tours were snaking through the hallways and
snapping pictures of agents working at their desks or giggling at the glossy
photos of Janet Reno and President Clinton. Mulder waited in the center of
the Bureau's seal, embossed and shiny on the tile floor, looking for Scully.

"Hey."

A tug on his sleeve and he turned around, surprised. As an automatic
gesture, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. They both froze, breathless,
realizing the mistake of his impulsiveness.

"Sorry," he whispered and backed away, turning from her.

She snared his jacket as he moved for the doors, making him stop and look
back to her.

She was smiling.

"It's ok. Let's just eat."

He nodded and they walked in silence to the front of the Hoover building,
spilling out into the sunshine and freedom. When they were a few blocks away
from work, she took his hand in hers and squeezed.

They walked in silence until their feet hurt, when they found themselves in
front of Magnolia Cafe. Neither had been to the restaurant before, so they
went inside, finding relief in the air conditioning.

It was a darkly wooded bar with thick tables and benches. The smell of
alcohol and bread mixed with the sounds of soft jazz and talking voices.
They were seated at a booth and given menus by the waiter, who flirted with
Scully. Mulder was too content to feel anything but pride, and he reached
out to brush his fingers along her arm.

She smiled dazzingly at him then returned her gaze to the menu, looking for
something to eat. Mulder followed suit and soon they were devouring club
sandwiches and sipping at lattes. It was twelve ten and the lunch crowd was
heavy, but they saw no one from the Bureau.

When they were finished, the plates were cleared and the coffee was taken
away, but they continued to sit in the booth, smiling. They didn't touch,
only talked. About the people in the cafe, the homeless canvassing the
sidewalks, the suits quick-stepping back to work. There was an easiness in
their manner that they had lost for a long time before yesterday had brought
it back.

At twelve forty, they stood up to leave, Mulder putting tip on the table and
walking to the front to pay the bill. Scully stood just behind him and let
her eyes follow his movements, having no real concern and no real focus.
When Mulder turned back to her, she tugged on his tie and kissed his chin;
it was as high as she could reach.

===

The OPR meeting went as planned, with the account of every expended shell
given by them twice at least, and then the judgment that necessary force had
actually been necessary. They walked away from the meeting in separate
directions: Mulder to the office and Scully back to the autopsy suite.

The rest of the day involved pure attention on trivial yet highly important
matters. He faxed reports and received faxes of new cases; he dug through
his unsolved files for related materials on new killers; he attempted to
profile three murderers with the scanty details VCS had provided him. Scully
did not reappear, nor did he expect her to. At four, she called.

"Hey."

"Hi. Autopsy finished?"

"Yes. Had another right after it. Then went to the lab for some blood work
they promised. After that--"

She cut herself off with a small chuckle, sighing even as the humor did not
last.

"Sounds like you're exhausted," he said and covered his own yawn with his
hand.

"Sounds like you are too."

"Yeah."

"I'll be over as soon as I'm done?"

Her self-invitation was more of a question, and he wondered how she could
possibly doubt his wanting her there. At his apartment. With him.

"Yes. Sounds great. I'll order pizza."

"Okay. No beer. I have an autopsy to do tomorrow as well."

Mulder frowned. "Oh? Which case?"

"The Dallas heat deaths," she said softly. "One of the X-Files..."

"Yeah. Well I've been getting some background on it and I think we'll be
heading out there next. Sound good?"

"Sure. It's definitely an X-File. I can't--"

She stopped, and he waited.

"Let's not talk about that now. I'll see you in an hour."

Mulder smiled and hung up the phone.

===

They had milk. Mulder's stomach couldn't handle Coke with the grease of the
pizza and she teased him that he was getting old. He laughed, but agreed and
felt a sliver of regret that he hadn't done this with her before...when he
was younger. When they were both younger.

But it was still so good. He appreciated the years they had together, the
intimate way he knew her every nuance--and that came from only the age. So
what if he was drinking milk and chewing Tums when they ate pizza?

They watched Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart on the AMC Hitchcock marathon.
She curled up against him and laid her head on his chest, pleasantly curling
her fingers in his shirt. He stroked her arm with his fingers and
occasionally kissed her hair, still surprised she was there.

When the movie faded to black and the apartment was still again, he could
tell she had fallen asleep against him. Mulder pulled the Indian blanket
down around them and decided not to leave her alone this time.

This time. It had only been early yesterday morning that all of this had
started and here he was, so content and so unworried. And here *she* was,
letting herself be with him, yielding to yesterday.

Mulder kissed her cheek and clicked off the television, then tossed the
remote on the floor. He shifted slightly on the couch and wrapped his arms
around her. She kept breathing in and out and softly and shallowly. The
fishtank gurgled and cast blue light across her eyelashes, causing their
shadows to grow on her cheeks. Her fingers twitched once and fell still and
then Mulder let his eyes close and his heart believe.

===

end
adios
RM