Title: Some Turbulence Is Expected (1/?)

Author: Tesla

Rating: NC-17 (sexual situations, adult language & lawyers)

Category: Mulder/Other

Spoilers: Assume that this alternate universe careens off track after "Field Trip,"

Archive: Sure, everyone, I would be in a tizzy of pleasure and tell everyone I knew.

Feedback: See above, only I’ll write charming replies.

Disclaimer: If Ten Thirteen is even reading this, settle with Duchovny!

Summary: Continuation of "Flying Under the Radar", and "Gaining Altitude"

Fox Mulder sat on his basketball, waiting for his pickup game to start. He was wearing his Yankees cap backwards, a stylistic note that had caused his girlfriend to curl her lip in scorn when she met him downstairs. He didn’t know whether she was mocking his homeboy look, or the Yankees. Probably the first—deep down, he suspected she really didn’t give a damn that the Yanks had beaten the Braves. She alternated between phases of being more of a baseball fanatic than even he was and ignoring crucial games to listen to Garrison Keillor.

His girlfriend. It felt weird—even thinking of a woman as his girlfriend. Much less the greater weirdness of having a girlfriend at all. Having a woman in his life other than Scully. He glanced at the picnic tables under the trees. There she sat, on her stadium cushion, with her Discman securely plugged in (probably listening to Keillor), reading the Times. She couldn’t look more like an English lit major if she tried. Well, she managed to hold her own on the street, but how would she do against a liver-eating mutant? He stood up, scooping up the ball, as more cars pulled into the parking lot.

Mulder was actually planning to play nice with co-workers—agents in Violent Crimes. And that’s why he had asked Janet to come along; although the guys were cordial enough, he still wanted to underline the fact that he wasn’t Spooky Mulder in private life. See, there’s Mulder’s girlfriend: she’s normal. It helped that Janet thought he was normal. He had told her about seeing the UFO in Antarctica, and she had taken it very well. (Of course, he noticed that the sci-fi channel suddenly got a lot more play.) He had waited a bit and told her about Tooms, and she scarcely blinked. He couldn’t bring himself to go into the Conspiracy, or about the shape-shifting alien. He didn’t think Frohike would tell her either, although Melvin had started e-mailing her lawyer jokes.

There were a couple of women, with their chairs, and Janet was taking off her headphones and walking up to him. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. He didn’t realize he was smiling.

Afterwards, eating at California Pizza:

"So have you seen the bowling bag cases, Mulder?" Henderson asked, his mouth full. They had all talked shop relentlessly as soon as the first beers were on the table. They were still in their sweats, caps, and basketball shoes. The three guys without dates or wives had attached themselves to Janet after the game. Janet, of course, invited them to go eat with her and Mulder. The three single men accepted with alacrity, so here they all were. He felt very macho and territorial, in a way he had not felt in years. Unlike Scully, Janet only smiled when he draped a possessive arm over her shoulder, and leaned into her space.

"Bowling bags?" she asked now, leaning forward.

"Yeah, some guy’s putting heads in bowling bags and leaving them in alleys all over the metro area. But here’s the weird shit—"

"That’s not weird enough?" Mulder interjected.

"—He didn’t kill ‘em. They’re embalmed. And some of them aren’t real—heads off old mannequins."

"Pretty good, Mulder—they’re a mix. Like someone has a whole lot of dummies in a warehouse. We think he’s digging up stiffs and when he can’t find a stiff, he puts a dummy head in the bag."

"Bags are old and new," Davis said, his mouth full. "Typical Wal-Mart, K-Mart, some new, some could have come from the Goodwill."

"What?" asked Henderson, impatiently.

"Some of the bowling bags have---" They all leaned forward with her. "Bowling balls!"

At the sight of their puzzled looks, Mulder practically snorted his mouthful of beer. He coughed and sputtered, Janet pounding him on the back solicitously.

"Oh, very funny," said Henderson, in mock anger.

"Good one, you two," chimed in Davis. "We tell you this stuff, hoping for that superior Mulder expertise, and you laugh at us."

"I would too, if I reached into my bag and got the dummy head, never mind the real one."

"You want it, Mulder? For your department?"

Mulder tried to envision Scully receiving a cartload of bulging bowling bags for dissection, and shuddered. "No, thanks. But if you really want me to review it---" he looked up, and saw the other three agents all had odd expressions. "What?"

"Hey, isn’t that your partner?" Henderson asked innocently.

Mulder looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, there was Scully and Mrs. Scully following the waitress through the tables. He felt Janet’s hand clench on his knee. He put his hand on hers, but he didn’t know if he was seeking or giving reassurance.

Mrs. Scully, naturally, stopped short and smiled. "Fox! How nice to see you." All four men, still mindful of Bureau training in manners, had risen. Janet remained seated in queenly calm.

"Mrs. Scully, this is my—this is Janet Durrell."

Mrs. Scully, the veteran of Navy Officer’s Wives Clubs, ignored Mulder’s stutter, and extended her hand; Janet (as she told Mulder later, a Girl Raised In The South) shook it.

"How do you do?" they said simultaneously.

"Janet, this is Dana Scully," Mulder said, standing beside Janet’s chair. He felt light-headed, and placed a hand on Janet’s shoulder. Neither woman extended her hand; of course, Scully was standing just far enough away not to reach.

"It’s nice to meet you," Janet said, and her tone was perfectly modulated and perfectly warm. Only Mulder knew her hand was brushing the back of his leg, just under the hem of his shorts, making the hairs stand up.

"Hello," Scully said. Her tone wasn’t quite so perfect, and the other agents were grinning. They all said hello, and nice to see you, Dana, and then the waitress came back to retrieve the two Scullys and take them to their table. The men all sat down.

"Bet you didn’t know Mulder’s partner was so good-looking?" Henderson asked slyly.

"Oh, yeah," Janet said, "I saw her picture—the one when you two got that award? And one of our friends thinks ‘Agent Scully’ is a goddess." She reached for her beer. "Wonderful hair," she added. Mulder slumped back in relief. How could such a simple transaction wear him out? He surreptitiously rubbed his heart. Well, maybe Mrs. Scully would realize he wasn’t some weirdo living in a basement, only coming out to put her daughter in mortal peril. Maybe he should join a softball league. Carry his glove around. See, ordinary humans interact with me in restaurants. I have a girlfriend.

Disappointed in Janet’s lack of interest, the agents went back to talking about dead bodies.

At the Scully table, Margaret Scully commented, "Well! I’m glad to see Fox’s got a girlfriend. It’s about time. You know Bill was certain Fox had a thing for you."

"Bill never had any female friends," Scully said. "He doesn’t get it. What makes you think she’s his girlfriend?

"Oh, Dana! He’s probably living with her. You heard that he didn’t know what to call her. That’s a sure sign. She seems very attractive. What does she do?"

"I don’t know, Mom. Going by Mulder’s type, she’s probably a Hooter’s waitress."