Date sent:        Wed, 26 Nov 1997 17:22:00 +0900
From:             Kiyoko Ishimura <GHB00253@niftyserve.or.jp>
Subject:          Rhapsody in Flu

BACCARAT PIECE: RHAPSODY IN FLU (1/1)
By Kiyoko Ishimura
GHB00253@niftyserve.or.jp


CATEGORY: SRH

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: None

KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Friendship, Mulder/Skinner Slash

SUMMARY: A coughing and sneezing Mulder gets more help from 
 $B!!!!!!!! (B Scully than he bargained for.

ARCHIVE: Yes

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Walter Skinner are
the properties of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox
Television.  Copyright infringement is not implied nor
intended in their use in this work of fiction.

Baccarat Universe belongs to Sean Spencer.

Sean, thank you so much!


* * * * * * * * * *


7:30 AM
Crystal City Apartment

Theoretically, there exist millions of flu viruses in the
world and they are constantly mutating.  So, there is virtually 
no chance that you would ever catch the same bug again;
therefore, you can't have any immunity.  That's why flu is
impossible to prevent.  Ergo, it is not my fault that I
caught a bug this time.

Those were the thoughts going through Fox Mulder's mind as
he dragged himself out of bed while sneezing and coughing
violently.  He forced himself to go through his morning wash
up despite being miserable with the latest and most dreaded
bug.

Life was not fair.  When it came to the flu, it seemed to
Mulder that he was the one and only available epicenter for
all the rhinoviruses in all its forms, at least in the
Bureau.

As far as Mulder knew, Walter Skinner, with whom Mulder had
been living with for about five months in this Crystal City
condo, was infrequently ill (thank God!) except for odd
episodes of hypertension.  Dana Scully was also resilient
and rarely, if ever, got the flu, even if she was so small
and fragile compared to Mulder.  In fact, she was handling
the exact same workload as he was and occasionally doing
fieldwork under harsh conditions.  Still, it was always him
who caught a bug here and there.  It didn't help that he and
Scully had been so busy putting together a report just after
returning from another investigation two days ago.

Incidentally, Skinner or Scully would always bring forth the
old argument that Mulder should eat healthier food.  Where's
the joy in living if you eat something akin to a vegetarian
diet fit only for the most ascetic Buddhist monk?

This time Mulder's problem was a painfully red sore throat
along with the coughing and sneezing.  He wasn't sure if he
was feverish.  Honestly, Mulder wanted to stay home today,
but he always felt somewhat guilty being absent from work
just because of the flu, not a disease of life and death.
As a child, he was never allowed to stay home just because
of some coughing and sneezing.  His strict father ingrained
the idea to his very marrow that he should be sturdier.
After all, he just had a slight fever and sore throat, so he
could and should still function.

Moreover, he had a field report to complete and submit to
Skinner by tomorrow morning, 9 am sharp.  To have Walter as 
your lover and to have Skinner as your boss was a totally 
different matter.  Especially because of this, Mulder wanted 
to minimize any flaws in his work.  This particular case had 
attracted attention of the top brass, because of embezzlement of
public funds.  Skinner requested that he and Scully
investigate it even while the AD was still in the regional
Bureau office in California.

AD Skinner had been on a business trip and he was scheduled
to fly home tonight.  By that time, Mulder hoped he would
have finished that damned report and resting in their warm
bed.

You've only got to get through this day, Mulder told himself
and blew his nose for the hundredth time.  After being
fortified by Mrs. Jackson's nice hot breakfast, Mulder
reluctantly went out into the chilly November morning.


* * * * * *

1:30 PM
Basement, FBI Headquarters

"Okay Mulder.  You can go home."

By that afternoon, Dana Scully thought she had enough.  Her
partner was perpetually sneezing or coughing.  Just listening 
to it seemed infectious enough for Scully.  Of course, she was
concerned about Mulder's well being.  They had just wrapped up 
a case and as usual, Mulder had been so focused and he worked 
extremely hard.  Scully tried her best to shoulder the equal 
workload, but after all, Mulder was saddled with the added burden 
as the senior investigator and as the head of the X-files section.

Mulder, who was practically slumping onto his desk while
trying to concentrate and type his report, looked up at her with 
fever-bright eyes.

Scully supposed that one of the reasons Mulder got sick
often was due to stress or tension that was nagging him all
the time.  He said that he was over the affair with the
married woman.  The break up of the affair was over a year
ago, but she would occasionally see him moping around.  She
was probably still on his mind a lot.

"Wha-?"  Mulder was surprised to hear his own voice that was
so hoarse.  Now his throat was so sore.  "But we...have to..."
In mid sentence, he was so hoarse that he became voiceless.
Mulder was getting dizzy, too.  His forehead was practically
burning hot; it was probably hot enough to fry an egg on.

"I can finish the report by myself.  You can go home."

"But, Scul- I can't leave it to you just like that."  Mulder
protested, as he didn't like the idea, especially now that
he was living with Skinner.  It was all the more pressing that 
he wanted to ensure his work was not amiss.  Somehow, his voice 
wasn't very authoritative when he sounded so much like a frog.

"Don't worry.  It's almost finished.  I can handle it.
Besides, you look awful."  Scully approached to Mulder and put her
tiny but capable hand on his forehead.  Mulder flinched and
braced for the next, inevitable attack from Dr. Scully.

"Mulder, you're burning up!  Open your mouth, Mulder, I need
to look down your throat."

"No way, Scully. If someone caught us in such a compromising
position, they'd misunderstand..." He held his tongue, as
Scully wasn't surely in a mood to buy his joke.  Mulder
opened his mouth resignedly.  In the back of his mind,
Mulder was relieved with the idea of going home.  By now, he
was too light-headed to think straight. This flu virus must
be a tough one, indeed.

"Mulder, you'll go home and rest, won't you?"   It was more
of an order than a confirmation.

"But..."

"No *buts*.  I'll be fine with the work here, Mulder."

Actually, this time it was Scully who needed some
distraction or refuge from her personal problems.  She was
currently in a rocky situation with her fiance, John the
dermatologist.  Just before this assignment, they had a BIG
fight over a trivial matter.  Scully suspected their
relationship might be over.  Although John tried to reach
her many times, she stubbornly refused to call him for some
reason.  John seemed to have given up, since there had been
no phone calls from him for two days already.  Scully sighed
to herself.  If that's it, so be it.

"Sorry, Scully.  I owe you one."

Mulder sounded just like an obedient little boy, and he was
cute.  Scully smiled as she took her coat and Mulder's jacket 
from the coat rack.

"Okay, I'll drive you home."

Without thinking much about it, Mulder stood up and followed
Scully to the basement parking lot. They made a brief detour
to the Bureau clinic, where Dr. Reyes gave Mulder tons of
medication, and admonitions to drink lots of fluids.

Mulder had no confidence in driving home by himself.  Scully
got into Mulder's Camry and adjusted the driver's seat,
while Mulder slumped next to her.  It was surely nice to
have caring Dana Scully around you when you were sick.  Soon
Mulder fell asleep, partly due to the decongestant Dr. Reyes
had plied him with.

In about 20 minutes, Mulder was gently shaken awake by
Scully.

"Mulder.  You're home."

Mulder groaned and reluctantly returned to the unpleasant
reality.  He felt heavy and sluggish, as he rubbed his eyes 
open.

Then, he was aware of a problem.  A BIG problem.

Scully drove him to Hegal Place, his old apartment.

It was the natural thing for Scully to do, of course.  She
was still blissfully unaware of her partner's relationship
with the AD and the fact that he didn't live here anymore.

Fortunately, he still kept this old apartment, but most of
his things were already in the Crystal City apartment.  In a
nutshell, apartment 42 was just a husk of its old self.

Damn.  Mulder paled.

In sheer panic, Mulder tried hard to grasp the situation,
while his head was still spinning from the fever.  On top of
that, he now felt a chill.  If it was from the flu or from
the present crisis, Mulder wasn't sure.

Scully shouldn't see his apartment, or she'd get suspicious.
If he remembered right, Scully hadn't been to his place
since she had been involved with the dermatologist.

"Mulder?  Are you okay?  You look much worse than before."
Scully's concerned face panicked Mulder all the more.
"Let's get you inside.  I'll fix you a soup or something
before I get back to the office."

No way.  Mulder tried to stop her.

"No, Scully, you don't need to bother.  I'll be fine.
Please return to the office.  I can handle myself.  Thank
you very much."  Mulder practically squeaked with his
voiceless voice.  He was trying to get out of the car as
fast as his decongestant-induced sluggishness would allow
him.

She rolled her eyes.  Mulder saying 'please' to her?  The
poor guy must be really sick.  Scully's maternal instincts 
went into high gear and she smiled at her partner with the 
compassion of a saint.

"What are you talking about?  It's no big deal, Mulder.
Come on partner, you're already shaking.  You need to be in bed.
Maybe we can call my mom for help."

Mulder groaned in silence.  Not paying attention to Mulder's
trying to avoid her grasp, Scully determinedly took Mulder
by the arm and proceeded to the entrance of his building.

As they waited for the elevator, Mulder thought in
desperation.  I've got to do something to stop her, or
everything will be over.  *We* will be over.

To Mulder's discomfort, the elevator came too soon and
swiftly took them to the 4th floor.  It was the damndest thing 
that the elevator that used to run at a snail's pace was now so
efficient. The door of his good old apartment No.42 looked
never this threatening to Fox Mulder.

"Look Scully," Mulder blocked her way to the door, with his
own body as a shield.  His mind was racing on how to get out
of this situation.

"What?  Let's get inside."

Think hard, Mulder!  Think hard!  Think!  Think!

"Um...I'm...I mean...I...I forgot my keys in the office!"

That's it!  Mulder sighed with relief with his quick
thinking. "I've got to ask the apartment manager for the
master key, Scully, so now you can go back to the Hoover.
You can take my car.  Please.  Tomorrow I'll take a taxi or
I'll call you if I can't make it."

"Oh, Mulder," Scully chuckled sweetly and took out a
keychain, forcing Mulder into a tight corner.  "No problem.  
Did you forget I do have a spare key?  Let's get inside"

Mulder felt as if all the air went out of his sails.

I'm dead.  Scully would squeeze me out, Mulder thought.  All
he could do was to pray for a miracle.

Just when Scully was about to put the key into the hole, the
very miracle he was praying for happened.

Scully's cell phone started to ring.

Surprised, Scully dropped the key, which Mulder kicked away
surreptitiously.  She answered the phone, while Mulder wiped
off the beads of sweat on his brow.

"What?  Can't it wait?  But...okay, I'm on my way."  Scully
hung up, apparently not very happy with whatever it was.

"What happened?"  Mulder asked with apprehension.

"I'm so sorry, Mulder.  They called me in for an urgent
autopsy.  Some political bigwig's relative died under
mysterious circumstances.  I've got to go right now."

Scully seemed genuinely sorry, but the extreme tension and
relief was almost killing Mulder.

"Can I really borrow your car?"  Scully asked.  "I'll rush
back to the office, turn in the report and head for
Quantico."

"Of course, of course.  Go ahead.  I'll be absolutely fine
by myself."  Mulder was practically kicking her into the
elevator.

Mulder was just relieved.  Whoever that was, Mulder was
prepared to kiss the caller for saving his ass.  He never
felt more grateful to whoever invented cell phones so that
Scully could be reached in these potentially explosive
moments at such convenient timing.

"Drive safe, Scully."

"Thanks.  You take care, too."

Dana Scully left the apartment building, really anxious at
leaving her ailing partner all alone.  Maybe I should check
on him later, she thought.

Sighing deeply, Mulder entered his old apartment.  It was
not as awful as he anticipated.  Still it did look strange:
only the leather couch, the bed and the battered bureau were
there.  Almost all his books, clothes and the fish tank were
gone.  Samantha's photo stand was gone.  The Pooh Bear and
his precious fox and soldier figurines were gone.  A thin
layer of dust covered everything and he sneezed as he
stirred it up some.

Suddenly, Mulder felt guilty about keeping secrets, such big
secrets from Scully.  She was always so up front with him
regarding herself.  Maybe he should confide in her about his
new lifestyle.  But after thinking about the possible
consequences of another Bureau person knowing about him and
Walter plus the possibility of losing her as his best
friend, Mulder just couldn't do it.  But he knew he couldn't
hide such big secrets from her forever.

Fox Mulder dragged himself to the bedroom, brushed the dust
from the bedcover, went through a paroxysm of sneezing,
retrieved old sweats from the closet and crept under the
quilt.  Maybe he could use a couple of hours' sleep and then
call Walter to pick him up or call a cab.  He was too tired
to do anything but sleep, as the flu already had taken what
little strength he had.


* * * * * *

7:00 PM
FBI Headquarters, AD Skinner's office

Walter Skinner went to his office directly from the airport.
He was tired but satisfied.  These trips were far more
productive than being stuck behind a desk and going over the
problem at the Hoover than going directly to the regional
office concerned.

The "in" box on his desk was full of papers neatly arranged
by his assistant, Kim Cooke.  On top of it was the report by
the X-files duo.  Skinner went over it, occasionally nodding
approvingly, since it was flawless.  The case was high
profile but was wrapped up successfully without much of a
fuss.

Since they were together, Mulder's work had improved
considerably.  Skinner highly valued the younger man's
efforts to keep the fine line between work and private life.
Skinner knew that he could never be objective with Mulder's
work much as he wanted to, but it was good that the agent
was holding up his end of the uneasy balance they tried to
juggle between work and their life at home.

The AD worked there for about an hour and then called it a
night.  Skinner could still catch up with the work tomorrow 
being Saturday.  He still had Sunday to relax with Fox.  
He put the documents including the X-files report into his 
briefcase and headed for home.

In his apartment Skinner found no one but Taylor waiting for
him.  The dog seemed happy enough to meet Skinner, but there 
was no sign of Mulder.  Where did he go?  The older man wondered.

Then Skinner was alarmed to find a memo from Mrs. Jackson on
the dinner table.  It said that she had prepared some bland
food for Fox, as he was suffering from a bad case of flu.
If he didn't feel well by tomorrow, Walter shouldn't
hesitate in calling her even if it was Saturday.

Concerned, Skinner called Mulder's cell phone, but no one
answered.  Next he tried the basement office, but the result 
was the same.  Skinner went to Mulder's study and checked his 
phone, as all the calls to the old apartment was automatically 
being switched to the second line here by a special device.  
Again, there was no messages.

Skinner pulled the report from the briefcase.  It was signed
by Scully, not Mulder.

Where was Mulder?  In a hospital, maybe...or wait, what
would you do usually do when your partner is sick?

Then an idea struck him.  Skinner sighed and thought of
calling Scully's cell phone, but he thought better of it.  
Instead, he grabbed his jacket and went out again.  Maybe Scully 
found out about them by now.  If that were the case, Skinner 
would accept the fact as it was and think about the consequences
later.


* * * * * *

9:00 PM
Hegal Place, Apartment No.42

The hallway was deserted and dark, as always.  Skinner
didn't like this place very much, because of its depressing
atmosphere.  It always reminded Skinner of Mulder being so
alone and depressed, virtually without anyone but Scully
beside him.  The day when he and Mulder started their
relationship, Mulder didn't even have Scully and the agent
had been weeping helplessly.

Skinner didn't think he would ever forget how lonely Mulder
looked on that day.

If he hadn't decided to drop by Mulder's apartment, what
could have happened to them?  What would their lives be like
today?  Skinner shuddered at the distinct possibility that
Mulder might even have been suicidal if his timing had been
off that day.  Skinner was grateful that he didn't ignore
the strong voice in his head years ago when he heard that
Mulder had run off from the Hoover.

The alternative possibility didn't seem to be pleasant at
all, so the AD shook off those what-ifs.  He was amazed, at the
same time, how fate seemed so random and could buffet anyone
every which way.

Seeing a narrow band of soft light from the gap underneath
the door, Skinner sighed in relief.  Anyway, Fox was here.

"Fox?  Are you in there?"

The AD knocked the door several times but no one answered.
Maybe Fox was sleeping, he hoped.  The door was locked so 
Skinner went to the office of the apartment manager at the 
ground floor only to find no one was there, either.  He didn't 
have a spare key, so there was only one option.

Skinner returned to apartment 42 and picked up the kit from
his wallet.  As an ex-marine and the one who worked his way up
from field agent plus being a Boy Scout in his youth, Skinner 
was always well prepared.  He knew several things and one of 
his gifts was picking locks.  Before long, the door yielded to
the wire Skinner was working with.  Technically, this was
his lover's apartment and it wasn't entirely a break-in.
Well, maybe.

Fox Mulder was fast asleep in the rather empty and dusty
bedroom. There was a glass of water and a small paper bag
containing pills on the nightstand.  Mulder's dress shirt,
tie, belt and trousers were haphazardly gathered near the
foot of the bed.

Skinner touched the younger man's forehead.  It was slightly
hot, but not too much.  It was Mulder's pattern: whenever he
was down with the flu, he always slept for a long period of
time just like animals did and regained his strength little
by little as he woke up.

Skinner didn't have the heart to shake him awake.  He
planned to let Mulder sleep as long as he needed, then take
him home when he woke up in his own time.

Skinner pulled the curtain of the bedroom and adjusted the
light from the night stand.  The bedroom reminded Skinner 
again of their first encounter.  Mulder never looked so forlorn 
that it stung Skinner somewhere deep in his heart.

Suddenly, all sorts of feelings toward the sleeping figure
filled Walter Skinner.  He sat on the edge of the bed,
gently stroked the younger man's hair and then kissed his
forehead and fever warm cheek.

In his feverish sleep, Mulder contorted his face slightly
and he murmured incoherently. Skinner bent his head lower while
holding his hand gently.

"Fox?  It's okay.  You'll be fine."

But Mulder's voice was too husky and Skinner couldn't make
out what he was saying, maybe "no" or "cold".  Skinner took his 
shoes off, shed his coat and tie and got into the rather small 
bed. 

Just like he had done about three years ago.  It was indeed
strange.

In an instant, Mulder clung to Skinner.  The younger man's
body was hot and he was breathing rather deeply.  Maybe his
fever was beginning to break.  Skinner hoped that no
nightmare would visit Fox.

"Walter?"

Then he heard the slurred voice, actually almost a very
hoarse whisper.

"Walter...Walter..."

"I'm here."

He shifted his position in bed, so Mulder could be more
comfortable.  The agent snuggled up to his chest and
continued sleeping.  Then something made Skinner look up.

It was a blue light.

Through the small window right above the bed, Skinner saw
the bright full moon shining in the clear night sky of
November.

Mulder was still asleep and calling for him over and over.
Skinner put his arms around Fox's body and listened to his 
voice and heartbeat slower than usual.  For a short moment, 
Skinner stopped thinking about anything except the pale moonlight 
and the cherished one in his arms.

Skinner felt serene and closed his eyes, too.

* * * * * * *

Walter Skinner didn't know how long he had been sleeping,
but suddenly he heard a footstep approaching from the
hallway.  The AD started as someone knocked on the door.

"Mulder?  Are you okay?  It's me."

Scully!

Skinner almost sat upright in bed but was stopped by Mulder
who instinctively clung tighter to the older man.  Realizing
the gravity of the situation, Skinner felt his neck growing
hot from the compromising position Scully was going to find
them.

If Skinner remembered right, Scully had a spare key to
Mulder's apartment.  Even if he were not in bed with Mulder, 
like he was now, it would be very difficult to convince Scully 
without making her suspicious that the AD simply visited to see 
one of his sick subordinates.  After all, Mulder just had the flu.

Skinner thought hard to get out of this literally awkward
position, but nothing flashed into his mind.  Moreover, Mulder 
just wouldn't let Skinner go.

"Mulder?  It's me, Scully.  Are you okay?"

"Don't go, Walter."  Mulder whispered in his sleep.

Skinner made up his mind.  Anyway, he expected this inevitable
moment would come sooner or later.  If Scully had to know
about these little secrets now, then she would know about it now.

Relaxed, Skinner waited for her to enter.

* * * * * *

Dana Scully was waiting for her partner to answer.  She was
exhausted after the long working day, but she just had to
check if Mulder was doing okay.  From the street, she had seen 
that Mulder's apartment was lit.  He must be inside.  Hopefully 
sleeping in his bed, not on the leather couch that must be 
uncomfortable.

"Mulder?  It's me, Scully.  Are you okay?"

She was about to use the spare key, when she remembered
Mulder hadn't returned it to her earlier today.  When she 
turned around to go to the apartment manager, her cell phone 
rang.  Again.

"Scully."  She answered hastily, then rolled her eyes.

"Dana?"  It was John, her fiance.  Being good-natured, John
apologized sincerely about the big fight they'd had earlier.
Touched by his honesty, Scully knew deep in her heart that
it was her fault that the fight was stretched over so many days
now.

However, Sully had to say that she was about to visit her
partner who was ill.

At the mention of Mulder, John's voice became cold over the
phone and he stiffly told her that he thought they could
make it up.  But since it seemed she was more concerned
about her partner than her fiance, maybe it was already too
late.  John was about to hang up.

"Wait, John, don't hang up."  Finally Scully gave in.  She
didn't want to lose him, after all.  Scully felt guilty about
Mulder, but he should be okay without her.  "I'm sorry, too.  
John, I'm on my way to your place.  Please try to stay wide 
awake until I get there, okay?"

Saying that, she was already smiling, as John, her John,
rarely stayed late at night.  Scully hung up the phone and
hastily left the hallway to start all over with her fiance.

* * *

Walter Skinner was wondering at what just happened.  He
heard the distant cell phone and then Scully was gone.
Whatever it was, their secret was safe, somehow, for now.
Skinner was not sure if he was relieved or not.  Maybe it
would have been better if Scully found out about them
tonight.

Or again, maybe not.

With Skinner's deep sigh, Mulder finally stirred awake.  He
felt a lot better and when he found where he was and with
whom he was with, Mulder was genuinely surprised.

"Walter?  What happened?  Why are you here...when did you
get here?"

His voice had recovered a little, too.  He didn't remember
very much, after such a long, decongestant-induced sleep.

"You've got a lot of explaining, Fox."  Skinner said,
smiling at his still sleepy lover.

"Explain what?"

The innocent look on the younger man's face was too much for
Skinner and he started to laugh heartily.

Mulder was still confused, but it just felt good being
hugged by his lover.  Skinner was still laughing and his
voice was pleasant to Mulder's ears, as well as the power of
the laughter that shook Mulder's body all together.


Mulder smiled, too.  Whatever it was, he would remember
sooner or later.



                               THE END
                     24-Nov-1997 / Kiyoko Ishimura

                      Feedback much appreciated at
                       GHB00253@niftyserve.or.jp

--------------------------------------------------
"A beacon in the night."
                     Mulder in reference to Skinner
                  Nisei
---------------------------------------------------