George Hale (16/17)
by invisiblefriends

Feedback: bettyteddyandray@gmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After IWTB, life goes on.


Chapter 16

"They bought the wrong colour tiles for the kitchen back-splash."

Mulder has just returned from two meetings in DC. The contractors
meeting is the meeting he will tell Scully about. He has vowed to
keep the second one to himself forever.

He met with a junior editor from his publishing company. Mulder
updated him with as generic terminology as possible on his progress
until the editor bluntly asked Mulder where he was with the draft
and Mulder could only clear his throat and say, "nowhere."

"*No*where?" the editor questioned.

"Nowhere," Mulder replied plainly. He didn't have it in him to go
through the loops and turns of the books development only to finish
with, *"and now I'm stuck."* 'Nowhere' seemed more simpler,
less ambiguous.

He was hoping this guy had heard the Spooky Mulder references
and chalked up the former agent in front of him as Another Creative
Genius Who Must be Indulged.

"Oh." The editor had said, instead. "Well. That's a problem, then."

Now, Mulder drops down onto the couch and almost sinks to the
bottom, which is funny he observes, because that's exactly where
he feels at this moment in time.

"How do you feel about fuchsia?" he hollers sarcastically. "A nice
hot-pink backsplash tinted with lovely specks of gold along the ....."

There is no answer.

"Scully?"

Silence.

He pushes himself off the couch and walks towards the bedroom.
No Scully. No George Hale either, now that he thinks of it.

"Scully? George Hale?"

For a moment, he thinks they must be out for a walk somewhere.
Until he hears a thin, very reluctant, "Out back."

Out back. He goes out back with a feeling of dread that he can't
quite place yet.

He stops at the doorway of the shed and sees Scully sitting on
cinder block of cement. In the corner, George Hale is sprawled out
and sound asleep. And in front of Scully is the box. The goddamn
box that has haunted both of them since it was dumped by an
indifferent delivery man. And the words of the editor drift into his
mind: 'Well. That's a problem, then.'

In her hand is one of the folders - the purple one. And he knows.
He hasn't opened these files in years but he knows which one she is
holding, as she tries to look at him and not ask him a billion
questions either starting with *'Why Didn't You tell me?'* or just
the hideously worse, *'Why?'*

He remembers, despite wanting to forget every second of those
terrible days when she was taken from him. And now she knows
and now he is full of shame. He could blame himself for committing
these things to paper and file, but facts were truth and, back then,
no truths went unrecorded. "I'm sorry."

Scully's eyes are filling and she wishes to God she wasn't at the
mercy of her emotions these days. "Why should you apologize?"
she asks quietly. "It's just .. unexpected, seeing it there in this ... file
folder. I was curious - the name ... 'Los Angeles/Fires'. I know it's
none of my business -"

He takes a breath because this is painful for him to even think, let
alone admit. But he does and, after all of this time, admits, "Scully,
when you disappeared - those days were harder for me than when
I lost my sister and every day since."

There is a sound from the corner. They both turn their heads.
George Hale is waking up from his nap and is wandering towards
them.

"It wasn't about ...her," Mulder whispers.

"I know that."

"Do you?" This time he looks up at her dead on and prays she isn't
just being polite.

"You and I were never a couple then, Mulder, you never owed me
any kind of ..." *'Loyalty',* she wants to say. "Explanation."

*Why? I owed you everything else.*

" .... I know we didn't see other people but - when other people
came into our lives...."

"Like Ed Nurse."

"Jerse," she corrects, wondering if this is a deliberate slip.

"He was about me, wasn't he?"

A corner of their separate but linked histories that they
experienced, and they are only just talking about it now.

"Yes. I suppose ... if you could become so lost without me, then it
stands to reason that I could become so lost *with* you. Yours'
was a hard shadow to live in Mulder." She watches the dog sniff
the 
box in front of her knees then look for something more interesting.
"You sought comfort. I'm not angry."

"Then what are you?" he asks.

She knows she has no rights to his world during her disappearance.
Mulder's grief was and will always be Mulder's grief. "Sad," she
says. "That you went through that. That I went through what I did."

Without quite looking at her, Mulder asks, "Did you sleep with
Jerse?"

The million dollar question has finally surfaced.

"No," she tells him. "I planned to. I didn't."

"Why not?"

She's uncomfortable and looks down. "I think you know why,
Mulder,"

"Me."

"I told you your shadow was hard to live under. You were the
reason for a lot of things I did - and did not do."

"I had my head so far up my ass - I missed too much going on
around me, especially where you were concerned."

"You weren't supposed to know, Mulder. I worked hard making
sure you didn't see anything I didn't want you to see. "

It's a conversation they should have had during their second year
together, especially following a particularly vicious case with a nasty
man called Donnie. And how Mulder encouraged told her to talk to
him if she wasn't comfortable. She never actually promised that she
would and, therefore, never had any promises to break.

"Why would you need to know that after all this time - about Ed
Jerse?"

"I guess - I guess I've always wondered."

"Why didn't you just ask?"

"Because I don't think I wanted to know the answer. I'm sorry you
had to see these, Scully. You've have been right this entire time, not
wanting to go back in time the way I seem to need to. You've
moved on and I envy you that, I really do."

"I don't know if I'd call it, 'moving on, Mulder. You have never
closed off a part of your life because it's so much easier to forget."

"No. Its crippling to remember. Years later these damn things - "
He throws a furious look at the box. "They just don't go away. I
thought I wanted them forever. I now know, I want them gone
forever but it is too late because you have just been caught in the
line of fire I started again."

He gives the box a sharp, deep kick with his foot. The cardboard
box splits open and files begin to spill out onto the ground.

George Hale stays where he is and darts his eyes between Mulder
and Scully.

Scully get up and carefully leads him away from the helpless
cardboard. "Where is this coming from, 


Mulder?" she asks carefully.

He sits down on the broken end of a wheelbarrow and rubs his
eyes tensely. "I've been trying to write - about those days,' he
admits to her for the first time. "I wanted to write something for
William that will tell him about our lives - but I can't. I can't tell him
about those days and I can't tell him about his parents *without*
those days."

"That's what you've been working on all this time?"

Mulder nods. That's what he has been working on all of this time.
"it was supposed to be about you and I and who we are - were -
when I see these files again ... they remind me that I still don't know
anything anymore. I don't know who ... who the hell I am. What
I'm supposed to be. Where I'm supposed to be. The only known
quantity of my life is that I should be with you." Nods over his
shoulder at the dog. "And him."

There is a sound coming from the road. A car is coming up the
drive. George Hale's ears rise. He is still not used to strangers
coming to the house. They are still a threat to him, even if they pose
no threat to the two humans.

Scully leans towards the house for a better look. "Damn. It's Curt.
He called before; he's got something he wants to show us."

Mulder's tired, wet eyes roll.

"Be nice, Mulder. Curt's been a good friend to me; certainly to
George Hale." She pauses and glances at him sideways. "And you
too from what I've heard."

"Which is?"

"That he found you and the dog walking on the highway one night.
It was the same night I was .... I stayed overnight at the hospital."

"I asked him not to tell you."

"He didn't. It slipped out when he called. I got the rest out of him.
I'm sorry you were so upset...." The words of sympathy drift into
silence.

"It was a bad night for everyone." Mulder concludes because he
doesn't need this grief crawling back into his fractured soul.

Curt wanders around the corner of the barn door. He sees the
looks on their faces, Mulder's especially and wonders if he should
ask who has died; or wait to see if either of them want to talk about
it. For a horrible second, he wonders if George Hale is all right.

"Guys," he says cautiously.

Scully kisses the top of Mulder's head and whispers, "I love you,"
into his ear as she walks towards their guest.

"Is this a bad time?" Curt asks. " I could - well, actually, I can't
come back later but if you just give me a second-"

"It's fine," Mulder assures him as he gets to his feet, His legs ache
from crouching so long. This is the least of his problems, he
remembers.

"Okay. Great!" He puts out both arms like a traffic cop. "Don't
move. I'll be right back."

"This better be good," Mulder grumbles as he and Scully watch a
grown man practically skip out of sight. They hear the car door
open and close. They hear low, excitable mumbles.

In a moment Curt returns with a look of joy that you just don't see
on a grown man anymore.

He is holding a leash. At the other end of the leash is an overweight,
brindle pitbull who can't stop bouncing.

Scully's face widens. "Oh, Curt," she exclaims. "You did it!"

Curt nods and beams. "Meet Gladys."

Mulder repeats this name under his breath while George Hale slinks
around the back of his legs for a cautious look of another new
thing, that looks like him but doesn't growl at him or simply attack.

"Buddy!" Curt sings. "Come and meet my new girl."

Buddy stays with Uncle Spooky while Scully rushes over to meet
the new dog. "Curt, she's beautiful," she gushes and crouches down
for a better look. Gladys immediately drops to the ground and onto
her back for a belly rub.

"All thanks to you, Dana."

"When did you get her?"

"A few of days ago. A couple of the kids and I went to the shelter.
The woman there remembered you when I said you'd got a dog
there. I told her all about Georgie and how well you guys had done
with him - she started to cry. Anyway, we talked and next thing you
know, Gladys was ours. She likes cats, great with kids, throws up
in cars but we're working on that."

"I'll bet." Scully shifts and looks behind her. "George Hale, come
and meet Gladys. It's okay, sweetie."

Curt bends down and holds out his hand while Scully and Gladys
continue the love-a-thon. In a gentle voice, he calls his Georgie
over.

The dog looks up at Mulder as if he's waiting for the all clear. And
Mulder nods towards Gladys. "Let's go say hi, buddy."

George Hale skirts around Scully and Gladys and lands at Curt's
knees. The moment Curt has him in one of their bear hugs, the
worst is over. "You got a new friend, Georgie. And when your
mom and dad go away on holiday, you can stay with us."

Scully is still playing with Gladys. If she heard the remark, she
doesn't flinch. Its only when she finally stands up and turns to
Mulder, that he realizes she did hear it. She has a smile of
resignation on her face; she is George Hale's mother to someone
and that is fine.

Gladys realizes her new human friend is gone and finally sees
George Hale for the dog he is. In a moment, after the sniffing has
begun and ended, Gladys begins bouncing and George Hale
follows.

"Let's take them into the run," Mulder says and in a moment, the
three adults are watching the two dogs play as if they are a couple
of preschoolers.

"I'm a little worried that George Hale will think he's being replaced."
Curt's eyes find Mulders' then Scully's. "But he's always my
Georgie."

"He knows, Curt. So do we."

And this is what Curt has worried about the most. The weight is off.
He is grinning again. "We're starting her on dog-training classes this
weekend."

Mulder would like to pipe in that he and Scully trained George Hale
by themselves. No help. Just by their wits. And Scully's book. He
is a little competitive with Curt; or maybe he jealous that his dog
has been replaced in someone else's heart. No, that's not it; Curt is
genuine on this matter. He may squeal about finding lost, freezing
men on the highway but where George Hale is concerned, he is the
real thing.

"I'm going to loan you the book Mulder and I used," Scully says.
Before Mulder can beg her not to leave him alone with Curt, she
has disappeared back into the house.

"So," Curt says. "Dana says you made this run yourself."

"Yes. Took an afternoon."

"Hey, I wondered where that fence went. I passed that thing
enough over the years. Always wondered when that last hinge
would drop off." Curt knocks on the post. "What kind of wood did
you use?"

*Uh, the wooden kind.* "I forget the name." He never knew the
name.

More silence "You coming to Dana's party tomorrow?"

"So I've been told."

More uncomfortable silence. Curt can't take it anymore. "I'm sorry,
it was an accident.. I forgot she didn't know that I drove you home
that night."

"It doesn't matter. Looking back, I'm glad you were there. And it
probably wasn't fair of me to ask you to keep that from her."

Curt breaths again. "Okay. Good. It's been on my mind."

"No kidding."

Curt misses the sarcasm. "You ready for the move?"

He doesn't get an answer. Mulder's eyes are far away.

"I know this is probably none of my business." Curt's kiss-of-death
opening. He has been told many times that many things are none of
his business but this never seems to stop him. "Is everything okay?
When I got here, you both looked really ...upset."

Mulder would dearly love to be left alone right now but he knows
that isn't going to happen. "Just a few ghosts slipping back to visit."

"Oh, *Those.* Well, if you think those are painful, wait until the
party tomorrow."

And more silence. It isn't until Gladys tries mounting George Hale
that Mulder nudges Curt and asks, "Uh, your girl's fixed, right?"

Curt looks pensive. "God, I hope so."

Tonight is their second last night in this house together. They spend
most of it in the living room, remarkably calm and caught up in their
own activities. The only light glows from the lamp on the table
behind Mulder's head. He is stretched out on the couch, reading the
latest Science Daily. He looks up from the diagram of a prototype
for the first Pan-STARRS telescope, PS1, in Maui that went online
on December 6, 2008 and watches Scully at the table, finishing a
report on the laptop. He loves listening to her type. She has a gentle
tap-tap-tap patter on the keyboard and it's almost hypnotic.

The family dog, as Mulder now refers to him, is asleep by her feet
and exhausted from his big day.

George Hale reminded Mulder of himself this afternoon when he
came out from behind Mulder's legs; how it took another dog to
pull him out of the shadows where it was so safe and so easy to
hide. Perhaps where there are Curts and Gladys in the world,
people like Mulder and George Hale chance of slipping back into
society without too much collateral damage.

*Welcome to the world of powerful women, big guy,* Mulder
ponders kindly. *It doesn't get any easier but it's worth every
second.*

"What are you smiling at?"

Scully is watching him with interest.

"George Hale. What are you working on?"

"Final report for the cuts committee."

"Booorring..."

Scully nods in agreement. Very boring. "You know something,
Mulder, I don't know why but there was something about seeing
George Hale playing with Gladys that made a lot of this -" she
points to the computer and then waves her hand at the rest of the
world - "not seem so ....daunting."

"Why Scully, that was almost ... poetic."

She will give him that one. For one of these rare moments in her
life, she is feeling almost ... poetic.

Mulder lays Science Daily across his chest. "Did Curt's dog seem a
little ...over friendly?"

"Kind of like Curt you mean? And before you start, no, I don't
know 'what the hell kind of a name Gladys is' ."

He turns the page. "So how long do we have to stay at this party
tomorrow."

"We can leave by six-thirty, seven at the latest."

"I don't want to spend our last night here in a hospital party."

He'd like to mark the last one with a special occasion. Candle light
dinner on their crappy wooden table. Ceremonial burning of the
paintings that came with the house which they were both too
uninterested in to hate. Leaving George Hale outside so they can
have sex on the couch like the good old days. If Mulder can survive
Scully's party, she can survive a night of his pampering and panting.