Date:	95-11-19 10:35:10 EST

Standard Disclaimer in Love Life Part One


LOVE LIFE PART TWO:  SCULLY'S MISADVENTURES IN
ROMANCE
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

Antonio's Italian Village
Bethesda, Maryland
Sunday 9:05 pm

     "The usual?" Angie said, posing the question with the answer
already written on her little pad.
     Fox Mulder looked across at his partner, who had actually
bothered to pick up the menu card and read it.  He watched her for
a minute, as did Angie, both waiting for her to reply.
     "Half sausage and mushroom, half mushroom only, light on the
sauce," Dana Scully finally answered.  Angie raised an eyebrow to
Mulder who shrugged and smiled.
     "Drinks?" Angie prodded, not sure if she knew this couple as
well as she had previously thought.  She made a great show of
erasing the order she had already written.  They had _never_
ordered anything other than pepperoni and mushroom.
     Dana looked up at her with a puzzled frown.  "Diet coke, iced
tea," she responded, shaking her head.  Angie shook her own head
and went back to the kitchen to fill the order.  These two were the
weirdest, sometimes.
     "Stomach still bothering you?" Mulder asked, when Angie had
finally gotten out of earshot.
     "Yeah, but it will go away with time.  It's that diet they had us
on in quarantine.  It's enough to give ulcers to the most cast iron of
stomachs," Scully complained.
     "So how come fresh fruits and vegetables are 'unhealthy' when
they're waiting for you to get sick?  You're the doctor.  Explain it to
a lowly psychologist," Mulder grinned.
     "They were monitoring our intake and put us on a bland diet,
that's all.  Of course, that throws my whole system off, but they
don't care.  As long as we don't infect the populace, you know."
     "Two weeks was too long.  The bug got people within 18 hours
of contact and all of the infected persons were *dead* within 36
hours of first symptom.  Why keeps us that long?"
     "In case it mutated.  And with your history, Mulder, I'm sure
they were expecting nothing less," she smirked.
     "Very funny, Scully.  So, where is Tim, or are you still going to
stonewall me?" he asked, looking directly in her eyes.  She hated
when he did that.  He could read her mind when he did that, she
was positive.
     "It's 9:00 already, we both have work tomorrow, I don't want to
get into it," she checked off the reasons on her fingers.  "Besides,
talking about him will ruin my appetite," she said, reaching for a
breadstick in the glass on the table.
     "What happened?" he asked, in his best investigator's voice.
     "Mulder, I don't. . ."
     He cut her off with a raised hand.  "Come on, Scully!  I spilled
my guts to you about my failed attempt at leading a normal life. 
Now it's *your* turn."  He sat back and looked at her expectantly.
     She sighed and shook her head.  "He's a jerk!" she stated.
     "Really?  I kind of liked the guy when I met him," Mulder said
off hand.
     "Then you date him," she shot back.
     "After Friday night, I may have to.  Jennifer probably has the
whole evening on the internet by now," he moaned.
     "Hey, is this *your* time on the couch, or *mine*?" she
demanded.  He smiled.  He knew he'd get her to open up.  It just
took pushing the right buttons.
     "The couch is all yours, fair damsel," he said in chivalrous tones. 
She scowled at him.
     "The man is insanely jealous, Mulder.  I don't need that in a
relationship."
     "How 'insanely' jealous IS he?" Mulder asked, suddenly slipping
into his feelings of overprotectiveness.  If this guy touched one hair.
. .
     "Down boy, not that insanely jealous!  But too jealous for my
tastes," she answered after Angie dropped off the drinks.
     "What happened?" he asked again.
     "He brought me roses," she said.
     "That fiend!" Mulder said, trying hard not to laugh.  She gave
him The Look and he shut up and smiled apologetically.  She
nodded, satisfied.
     "And we went to dinner at the Poolesville Inn," she continued.
     "I thought you loved that place?" Mulder asked, getting
confused.
     "I do, so what?  Quite interrupting," she warned.  "And we went
for a drive along the B & O Canal," she shot a look, expecting him
to interrupt again.  He was biting his lip, but he refrained.  "It was
the most romantic evening I have ever had, Mulder.  It was straight
out of a Harlequin Romance.  Right up to the point where we
parked and started talking."
     "Well, there's the problem!  After all that set up, there is NO
WAY you should have been talking!  Except to say, 'Sweetheart,
the gearshift is in my back' or something like that," Mulder
declared.
     "You are permanently moored in latency, you know that,
Mulder," Scully growled.
     "Jung didn't believe in latency.  That was Freud, Scully.  I'm a
Jungian psychologist, thank you.  I love my mother.  But continue,
even if I have now discovered the fatal flaw here."
     "Well, for your information, women like to hear a few words
spoken before they lock lips, Nano-brain!  Remember the lesson on
Tuesday?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
     "Nano-brain?" he muttered, perplexed.  "Oh, Tuesday, yeah. 
Talk first, then lock lips.  I remember.  Go ahead.  You were
talking."
     "Well, he was really sweet at first.  He wanted to know all about
quarantine.  Secret Service guys don't end up in quarantine,
apparently."
     "Gee, an upside to taking a bullet for the President.  I always
wondered what they gave them for perks," Mulder grinned.
     "Mulder, NOBODY in the Universe gets put in quarantine as
much as WE do.  I think it's becoming legend among the Justice
and Treasury Departments.  Anyway, Tim was all ears, asking if I
got stuck with needles and if he could kiss the spot. . ."
     "Please, Scully, the pizza's almost here.  Don't go into details. 
PG-13, just like I had to, remember," he warned.
     "OK, OK, anyway, it was going really well, right up till the time
I was telling him about the room. . ."
     Mulder grabbed her hand.  "Don't tell me you told him. . ."
     "That we were in one big room?  Sure I did.  That was pretty
funny, in my opinion.  Besides, Mulder, the damn thing had two
glass walls--like we could have done anything without being video
taped or something.  Then I noticed that he was getting real quiet
and had stopped kissing. . .well, he had stopped doing anything. 
And I asked what was wrong and he said I should transfer.  As
soon as possible.  In the interest of 'National Frigging Security' I
should transfer!  Then we started arguing about you and me and
how much time we spend together and he drove me home and I
shoved the roses down the garbage disposal--could you look at it
when we get back, think it's jammed--and I haven't heard from him
since."  She sat back and took a big drink from her diet coke.
     Fox Mulder stared at his partner for a good two minutes.  Angie
brought the pizza, glanced at them both and quickly departed. 
Scully pulled a piece of pizza onto her plate and started to cut it up,
but finally stopped and looked across at him.  "Mulder!  Have you
slipped into a coma over there, or what?  What's wrong?"
     "I just realized it.  It's hopeless.  And it's my fault."  His face was
the picture of guilt and apology.
     "Mulder, stop it!  What on earth could you have done to cause
this.  The guy overreacted and was a jerk.  It happens.  It happens a
lot, to me.  You have absolutely no blame here, unless you plan on
taking on the blame for your entire gender," Scully said, pulling his
plate over to her and putting a piece of his side of the pizza on it. 
She almost cut it up, but caught herself and sheepishly handed it
over to him.  He didn't even notice.
     "Mulder.  Eat, for God's sake!  I refuse to take a medium pizza
home and it will only grow green and gray fuzzies in your
refrigerator.  Eat up.  Now!"
     Absently, he chewed at his pizza.  Swallowing, he looked back
at her.  "Scully, as long as we're partners, we are not going to have
more than casual relationships.  It's that simple.  Just as you told
me, the *search* is more important than the possibility of an
ongoing normal life.  If you really liked Tim, as in 'gee, someday I'd
like to have kids with this guy' liked him, you would have taken him
seriously.  He had every right to be jealous.  Hell, if *I* were him, I
would be jealous.  You spend an awful lot of time with me.  And
we both tend to, well, feel protective of each other.  We know it's
not like a normal man/woman relationship, but I've thought about it
and I'll be damned if I can define it.  How can some poor guy who
follows the President and talks into his cufflink understand it?  I
think you're being kind of hard on the guy, but it's probably for the
best.  The relationship, any relationship is doomed from the start." 
He glumly picked up his pizza, but put it down and pushed it away. 
"God, Scully, I'm really sorry I'm making you an old maid.  Maybe
you should transfer."
     "Oh, no you don't!  Mulder, we have been through this before.  I
can walk at anytime.  But I don't want to.  It's MY search now, just
as much as yours.  And I'm not going to let YOU or any member of
your sex take that search away from me.  Got that!  Now eat that
pizza before I force feed you.  You lost 5 pounds in quarantine and
you look like skin and bones.  EAT!" she glared at him.  "And for
your information:  I AM NOT AN OLD MAID!"
     "Sorry, my mistake.  Freudian slip," he muttered, trying to hold
back a smile.
     "I thought you didn't like Freud," she said, her anger abating a
bit.
     "I don't.  That's why," he replied, finishing off one piece of pizza
and reaching for another.
     "Mulder, I will NEVER understand you," she smiled at him
affectionately.
     "Feelings mutual," he returned.

The end.