Subject: New: Each Other and the Occasional Smoke 1/1 Date: Mon, 5 Apr 1999 20:57:29 -0400 From: "mike metelsky" Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Each Other and the Occasional Smoke By: ~*Lauren Metal*~ lauren_metal@yahoo.com Category: V,A (Is that even one? It's been soooo long!) Keywords: MSR, Pre-XF Spoilers: Nothing major... Just some implied Mulder and Scully background info. Also, take into account the fact that Scully used to steal her mom's cigarettes when she was a teenager, and that we've see both M&S with cigarettes. (Scully in Syzygy and Mulder in the Traveler's flashback, unless I dreamed that!) Rated: PG-13, I guess. Some swearing, etc., but no sex. Sorry folks! Archive: Sure...I guess just ask me. I don't bite, promise. What else am I forgetting??? Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully don't belong to me, yet. Some day, though... A girl can dream, ok? Summary: We know that young Dana Scully used to go outside on the porch and smoke her mom's cigarettes. Now, we find out why she started and why both her and Mulder continue to smoke occasionally during their adult lives. Author's Notes: Yes...this story deals with the subject of smoking cigarettes...and no, I don't condone it. In the past year I've watched both of my dad's parents die from lung and throat cancer caused by years of smoking... It wasn't fun, to say the least. Smoking is bad. I mean, if ya want to do it do it, but...whatever. You should know this. Maybe I should just give a surgeon general's warning!!!! Anyway, as always this is for Kim...without you, I'm lost. I miss you! ~*Lauren Metal*~ April 1999 ~* ~* ~* *~ *~ *~ "God damn it all to hell!" Did that vengeful curse toward God just come from that little girl? The older boy guessed so, as she was the only one there, but by looking at her he never would have known she could say such a thing. She was younger than him, a freshman he guessed, but she was cute. That was, if you went for those "tom-boyish, little baby types". He didn't, usually. Normally, he wouldn't have taken a second look at this girl. He liked the older girls... the ones with the long legs, short skirts, and big boobs. This girl was nothing of the sort. None-the-less, he found her intriguing. There was just something about her. Her large green eyes were dull and saddened and her pale, sun stain freckled cheeks were splotched with rosy redness. She looked to be on the verge of tears. "Your problems can't be worse than mine," he said, startling the younger girl who had seated herself nearby. She hadn't even noticed he was there. It had been his half-assed idea of comfort. What the hell did a 17 year old boy know about consoling a crying girl? Apparently, not very much at all. "Go away, jerk." She didn't need to deal with some annoying stranger now. "I was here first," he snapped back. Typical territorial male. This was school property; it wasn't like he owned it or anything. She had two brothers, she knew how to deal with aggravating boys. She stuck out her tongue. Definitely a freshman, he decided, and a real mature one at that. The boy took out a half empty pack of cigarettes, pulling one from the box and lighting it. "Wanna smoke?" he asked, proffering the younger girl the box. She shook her head fiercely, red frizzed-out curls clinging wildly to her now tear-stained cheeks. He wouldn't admit it, but her tiny nose looked kind of cute all wrinkled in disgust. Hell, he was a teenage boy, he was allowed to be hormonal. "You sure?" he asked. "I used to be that way too...a goodie-two-shoes, but smoking really isn't all that bad, once you get used to it." This large nosed, hazel-eyed boy just had to be about the most aggravating person she had ever met. "I said no." She was not happy. If she hadn't found his half-witted attempt at comfort to be the tiniest bit cute, she would have left as soon as he opened his big mouth. She did though, so she stayed. Besides, her mom always picked her up here anyhow. He had never met this girl before but he hoped, for her sake, and the people close to her, that she didn't always act this way. "Actually, it's damn relaxing ya know," he said, puffing the cigarette and then smiling as if to accentuate his point. "Calms the nerves and all that crap." He moved from his seat at the bottom stoop of the set of large concrete stairs in front of the building labeled "John Q. Adams High School," and sat next to the crying girl. "I learned this along time ago... It's easy enough to get away with. Your parents smoke?" She nodded her head in silent response. "Perfect! Its as easy as stealing one from a pack left on the counter. All you have to do is wait till they're asleep and take one out on the porch or the front steps. They'll never know the difference and you'll feel a whole lot better." "What makes you the expert?" God, she was a skeptic too... "Experience" He told her, "My life hasn't exactly been a picnic." Oh. Like she really cared anyway. She had her own problems to worry about. "Over the years," he told the girl, "I've learned a few rules to live by. First off, No crying; not in public anyway." God, he had lived by that rule for long enough. He gently wiped the warm wetness from her face. Why he was being so nice, he didn't know...but there was just something about the 'tragic redhead' that he couldn't resist. "Here," he said as he placed a cigarette between her short, chubby fingers. "Put it in your mouth". She did, backwards. "Not like that!" God he was annoying. It wasn't even like she asked for his help anyway. All she wanted to do was cry, not do something that, if her parents found out, would get her disowned for life. Not like that would be a bad thing really. She turned the cigarette around anyway. "Okay, that's better," he told her. "Now inhale while I light it for you." The girl did as she was told. The boy pulled a matchbook from his pocket. The redhead watched, transfixed as he tore a match from its confines, striking it against the stone stair. Her tear-laden eyes followed sparkling hazel ones as hands reached up to light her cigarette. She choked and coughed at the first taste of heavy smoke filling her lungs. "Easy killer." He patted her back gently as the coughing began to subside. Sure her throat burned, but it felt darn good. Every inhale...hold...exhale made her feel just that much better. It felt as if every time she exhaled the curling smoke she was venting a bit of her anger as well. "See, it's not all that bad". Was he talking about the cigarette or her problems? Whichever...it didn't really matter. She didn't really care. He never asked what her problem was, he didn't have to. For some crazy reason she trusted him. Hell, it wasn't like she would ever see him again anyway. "My parents are making me move". She was expecting sympathy, pity, something... She should have known better. "Good," he said, "Escape while you still can!" His voice was gruff; bitter. The boy took a long, last, slow drag of his cigarette. Someone obviously wasn't happy there. "I've been to four different school in the past two years. Every time I get adjusted...make friends, my dad gets reassigned". She casually exhaled a puff of smoke. An Army brat...Navy...something. Not his type at all! "Just look at it this way," he told her, "At least you don't stay anywhere long enough to make enemies..." He snuffed out the charred remains of his cigarette butt on the cold stone below. "I guess," she said. He knew she didn't understand. Nobody ever did. She tossed her cigarette down, stomping out the remaining light. A station wagon, he guessed it was her mother's pulled up in front of the school. "Good luck with the move". She groaned, composed herself, and stood. He grasped her wrist, pulling himself up. "If I ever see you again Red, you owe me a smoke". She found his face looming above hers, his hand still grasping her arm. She was startled, but not afraid. It happened fast. The kiss tasted of salty tears and smoky cigarettes, but at that moment, she couldn't have asked for more. So what if her mother was watching? It's not like there wouldn't be a price to pay for her smoky smelling clothes anyway. Her mother wasn't stupid. "It's a deal." She made her way down the stairs to her mother's car, getting in. The redhead never looked back. ~* ~* ~* *~ *~ *~ "Hey Scully," Mulder said softly as he sat down next to his partner on the steps of the J. Edgar Hoover Federal Building. She groaned. "Go away, Mulder". "I don't want to". Bastard. Sometimes he could be so damn aggravating. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and removed one from the box placing it between her long, slender fingers. Mulder watched as she put it to her lips and lit it, inhaling gently. She exhaled with a great sigh, allowing the smoke to emit from her lips and the tears to pour from her eyes. Sometimes she really hated her job. All she wanted was the truth, and she couldn't have ended up further. Dana Scully couldn't deal with not getting her way. She never could. "I didn't know you smoked". She just wanted him to leave her alone already. "I don't really," she said, taking another long drag, "I just...It calms my nerves, so I do it every once in a while." Déjà vu. Mulder reached for her and wiped the tears from her splotchy cheeks. He didn't know if she remembered and he couldn't believe he had forgotten. It *had* been a long time ago. But still, that was no excuse for forgetting a pretty girl. "No crying, Scully. Not in public anyway. It's not that bad". He picked up her pack of cigarettes, taking one from the box. "You own me one, remember?" She must have. The kiss tasted of salty tears and smoky cigarettes, but at that moment, he couldn't have asked for more. They didn't care who was watching. Screw the Bureau. Fuck the Consortium. It wasn't like they hadn't been expecting this for years now, already. Gone was the little Tomboy with the dark freckles and the frizzy hair. Gone was the cocky boy with the messy hair and bad attitude. Yet still, there they were... Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Two lost souls who just needed some respite, a chance to escape. And they found it in each other; each other and the occasional smoke. ~* ~* ~* *~ *~ *~ Well, that's all this time. Let me know what you think. ~*Lauren Metal*~ lauren_metal@yahoo.com