SEARCHING FOR THE SCENT

by: C. Chaffin

Category: MSR, Vignette, 3rd person POV

Rating: PG (for language)

Disclaimers: These reasonable facsimiles are mine!!! CC owns the real deal...

Spoilers: Season Nine, so far -

Thanks to: My lovely writing partner Tess for quick as a wink beta and enthusiastic jumping up and down not to mention ordering me to drop everything and post...

Summary: Um.... nah. You'll find out!!

"Searching for the Scent"

I'm standing in line at a grocery store, when it happens. Don't ask me which grocery store; I never pay attention. When I need food I go out and get it, and whatever side of town I happen to be cruising, that store gets the pleasure of my company -

There it is, again. My head pops up from where I'd had it buried in the latest copy of 'People' magazine. I look around me but I don't see anyone I know. That scent, though...

I know that scent. I would recognize it anywhere.

Scully.

Now I am in an absolute panic, having dropped my magazine and deserted my shopping cart, three people in from the grocery clerk wearily scanning in one item after another. The lady behind me is indignant that I leave my stuff there. I can hear her squawking as I turn and hurry away, sniffing like a bird-dog. Traces of it linger on the air in front of my nose, tantalizing me. I follow it, winding down one aisle after another. Always just a little ahead of me, just a tad too far to catch the sleeve of the wearer of that scent...

And I lose it, in the produce section. I stop dead in my tracks, eyes wildly darting in all directions. Jesus, where did all these people come from? All wearing overcoats and hats, their backs turned to me as they go about their shopping business. No wonder I lost it.

Lost her.

Again.

It happened four days ago, too. I was in a Sears store, buying vacuum cleaner bags, of all things. I rounded a corner and ran right smack into that same scent. Strong, too. I came to another dead stop and let it wash over me like a prayer... then I barreled up and down the wide aisles of the store hunting for her. I just knew she had to be there, somewhere very close.

Needless to say, I was wrong.

But this time, this moment... I had almost managed to get within reach of her. I stand in the midst of people, shopping carts and cucumber bins - and I feel like crying. I could just plop myself down on the floor, right here, and bawl like a baby.

Obviously, I don't. I straighten my spine, yank on my gloves and exit the store, leaving all my selected foodstuffs behind in the cart at the checkout three people behind the weary grocery clerk - and figure the squawking lady who stood behind me can just push it out of the way.

Outside the night is starry and clear; the air cold and crisp. I stand for a moment looking up at the stars, wondering where she is. So many times I thought I had a lead; they turned out to be nothing.

God, so frustrating! Especially now. Now that certain events have fallen into place; now that certain key players are dead - and it's relatively safe.

Well, as safe as it can get when you consider who we're talking about - as safe as can be when you figure that a flower pot could fall off a windowsill and land on your head as you are walking by, or you could get hit by a car, in a parking lot. Safe as possible in an uncertain world. But those are the daily breaks we all get; the simple chances we all take when we awaken in the morning and put our feet out of our warm and safe beds.

With a sigh I walk slowly to my car; unlock the door and climb in. I dread having to make the call. I really do. But it's my job; my responsibility. When I was asked to do it I was proud and happy to be asked - and I didn't even think about how emotionally-draining it might be... to hunt for a woman I am still half in love with.

To hunt for her, knowing that upon locating her I would give her over to somebody else, even though I give her to one of my best friends.

Truly he should be the one doing the hunting. And he would, if it were safe for him to do so. But that new world I just mentioned doesn't quite include him, yet. It's getting better. But there's no sense in taking chances, and it's just as easy for me to do it.

Or so I thought. I think it less and less, each time I come upon a place or a moment in my day, and I smell her perfume. And I hate to think she has to be many miles away by now - even though it makes the most sense. DC may be a big place but that doesn't mean it's easy to get completely lost in it - especially when you know the kind of people I know. I also know that many women in this world probably wear that particular brand of perfume.

She's been gone a year. A whole fucking year. As I said she could be anywhere in this world. I prefer to think she somehow manages to stay around, within a hundred mile-or-so radius of her mother. Call it an instinct. Over the years I have developed a few where Dana Scully is concerned.

Of course, her mother won't own up to a thing. Either the woman knows nothing, or else she is the best actress in the world, because the feeling I get from her is one of deep sadness; that her child has gone away - and her grandchild as well.

I understand why, God of course I do! The threat was real. The first time little William was taken it was a miracle we were able to find him. The kidnappers were sloppy - they left a breadcrumb trail a mile wide.

The second time it took longer to find the boy; our only break was a phone call from a greedy napper who wanted it all. He's now sitting in prison, hopefully the love-slave of some side of beef named Bruno who sports hairy ears and several tattoos.

After that episode Scully gathered up her life, her baby and took off. She never told anyone, apparently not even her family. She never said a word to Skinner. She just vanished, along with the baby.

I got a kiss on the cheek and a chance to cuddle little Will, and I should have known the last night I saw her, that it was the end. I mean, let's face it... Dana Scully doesn't kiss me. But she did, that night - and her whisper in my ear should have been a large red flag...

"Take care of yourself, Hick... and thank you." As she'd walked away, a sleepy Will in her arms, I had touched my cheek where her sweet lips had pressed that kiss, thinking to myself that Dana must really appreciate a guy who can unclog a tub... because that was what I'd done, for her. That was all.

Should have known.

The worst of it all was that three people I loved were all gone from me. Langly and Byers felt the loss, as well. It was rough.

Then Mulder came back... and the hardest thing in the world the guys and I had to do, was tell him about Dana and little Will.

******************

Now I search for her whenever I can - because as I said I am convinced she is still in DC, hiding out. I try not to feel hurt that she hasn't made at least some sort of attempt to contact me and the guys and let us know she's okay. I know she is afraid to leak any information right now. I don't know why I'm so sure she's somewhere close... call it a gut feeling. What doesn't really surprise me is my failure at locating her. And yet... she's a smart woman - she knows the talent of undercover life. If anyone would know how to stay hidden in plain view it would be Scully...

Except for that perfume. Whenever I am out and about and I smell it - my heart begins pounding and I immediately begin to search, because this time could be it - the time I actually find her. And in finding her I help to find myself, a little - at least find that piece of me I broke off and gave to her years and years ago. A piece I have never wanted to reclaim, though I have a decent life now and a real girlfriend.

Scully owns that piece - and it makes a connection between us.

Maybe that's why I swear I can still smell her, as I sit in my car and fumble the key into the ignition, blinking back those tears I tell myself I would not shed.

The engine finally roars to life and I wipe at my eyes, then pick up the cell phone and punch in a few numbers. Three rings, before a tired, raspy voice answers.

"I'm here." I rub at my eyes again.

"No luck today, Buddy. Jesus, I'm sorry -" His soft murmur interrupts me.

"Hick, it's okay, Man. Really. I know you're trying your best. Maybe it's time for me to come out and engage. If she heard I was back in town; if she knew -" This time I'm the one interrupting him.

"No, Mulder. Don't take the chance. Stay out of it, a little longer. You just got back, yourself - we don't know who may still be looking for you, even though it seems to be safer. Give me another week, okay? I swear to you I can find her." I hear the hope and defeat in equal portions when he replies.

"Don't make promises, Frohike - to me or to yourself. Believe me... if Scully doesn't want to be found yet then it ain't gonna happen."

I nod, although I know Mulder can't see it; nod again and after a few more words we hang up. And I back out of the parking lot and head on home, knowing Fawn is waiting for me. We're supposed to go to the movies, tonight -

I won't say any more to Mulder right now; won't get his hopes up. But soon, I know I'm gonna find her... because today for the first time I not only smelled her perfume, but the scent of her skin, as well. And maybe five thousand women in DC wear that perfume, but only one of them has skin that smells like that...

Like her.

I smile a little, all the way home.

End

END NOTES: I kept thinking today (dangerous pastime for me!) - it's always Mulder who takes off and leaves, in Season nine fic. Well, it makes sense, given Season Nine X, so far! But what if he could come back... only to find that Scully left and went into hiding??

Hope you enjoyed it! I would love to hear from you; email me!

char@chaffin.com

Please visit my web site, at http://char.chaffin.com