10Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files.
Mulder finished knotting his tie as he made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen he saw Scully sitting at the table with a plate of toast and a mug of coffee. She looked up at the sound of him entering.
"Morning Mulder," she greeted, sipping her coffee. She had also dressed for the work day as they usually did on a case.
He was grateful to see she had made a pot of coffee enough for them both. He poured a cup and joined her at the table. Taking a sip, he took a moment to look around the kitchen as last night they had only spent moments there putting away the groceries.
It had pine cabinets, tiled counters, and linoleum floors. Simple and bright, it reminded him of a generic kitchen you would catch on a sitcom. Not that he was complaining, he preferred to stay somewhere that wouldn't give him a headache just staring at the color scheme. There weren't many photos on the walls, mostly paintings of landscapes and flowers with just a couple of old photos that seemed to be of the grandmother who originally owned the home.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked Scully, swiping a torn piece of toast from in front of her.
"Hey!" she complained pursing her lips, "There's bread and butter on the counter, Mulder."
Smiling boyishly as he chewed on the stolen food he stood and went to prepare his own food.
Answering his question, she continued, "It was fine. No worse than any motel we've stayed at in the past," she raised the mug to her mouth, "I might even say better given that I didn't have to deal with noisy guests at two in the morning."
Mulder nodded, buttering his slices of toast, "Same here. If last night was anything to go by, we may not have as restless a spirit as poor Barry thinks."
"I think you mean there may not be any spirit at all," she replied, sounding amused.
Shaking the butter knife at her, he said, "Don't speak too soon, Scully. He said that the spirits are only active when they are upset. I doubt us sleeping in their beds would cause any harm."
She snorted but said nothing else.
Fifteen minutes later and the agents were in the living room unpacking their ghost hunting supplies. Mulder had laid out the various items on the coffee table between them. In all they had two bottles of baby powder, three disposable cameras, a roll of tape, their tape recorders, and some string.
"All those hours of training have really prepared me for this," Scully said sarcastically, eyeing the baby powder.
"Ye of little faith," he said, placing the other extra grocery bags in one bag.
"So what's the plan here?"
"We do nothing," he said simply.
Scully's eyes widened a fraction, "Nothing? Mulder, what do you mean the plan is do nothing?"
Smiling slightly he said, "Yeah Scully. We need to establish a baseline of activity while we're in the home. Then once we do that we can set up some of this stuff and see there are patterns or explanations for any phenomena."
"A baseline of activity?"
"In order to know what's not normal in this house, we first need to understand what is normal," he explained, "Which are the sounds of the house settling, the pipes working. The wind moving a branch against a window."
Though she still thought this was all still for nothing, she couldn't deny is logic made sense. "Okay," she nodded slowly, "We do nothing."
He stood from his seat walking to the television to grab the remote resting on it before returning to take a seat next to her on the couch. He smiled her way briefly before settling in and turning it on.
She watched the screen for a second before she snorted, "Why do I get the feeling there's a game on today?"
In mock offense he raised a hand to his chest and sent a hurt look her way, "Scully, why I would never ditch a ghost hunt for a game."
They stared at each other, waiting for the other to give. She didn't budge.
"Besides there isn't a game on," he continued, losing their starting contest to turn back to the television.
Shaking her head she stood and went upstairs to grab her book. She returned to find him flipping through the channels trying to find something on daytime television worth watching. Sitting against the armrest on her side she slipped off her shoes to curl up on the couch and read.
Somehow she had fallen asleep.
She didn't exactly know at what point her reading had turned into a nap but she was brought into consciousness slowly remembering where she was. Scully could lifted her head from where she had wedged in between the arm and back of the couch to see the window behind them being hit with rain. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she looked at her partner, smiling at some rerun that was playing.
As if he could sense her eyes on him he turned to her, "Good morning again, sleepyhead," he joked.
Smiling she was slightly embarrassed, "Sorry, I don't know what happened," she pushed herself into a sitting position, stretching. "How long was I out?"
"Not too long," he replied still looking at her, "About a half hour."
Clearing her throat awkwardly, "Anything spooky happen while I was out?"
Shaking his head, "No, nothing notable other than the rain starting up again and the discovery of a leak," he nodded over to a small pot he had placed on the threshold between the foyer and the living room that was slowly collecting rain water as it dripped from the ceiling.
Amused she replied, eyes still on the pot, "Wow, you're a regular handyman."
"My dad did manage to teach me a few things before our relationship was shot to hell," Mulder smirked.
"Oh yeah?" she was intrigued.
"Yeah, he was actually pretty good at fixing things. I would spend my weekends following him around the house fixing up things…You know, broken hinges, leaky roof, things like that."
"You know, I'm not actually surprised to hear that…"
"No?"
She smiled at him, "Yeah, you have a bit of MacGyver in you."
"Is that a compliment I hear?"
She glanced down at the book in her lap, "You could definitely take it that way."
He didn't reply but continued smiling at her though he redirected his attention at the television.
Sighing she asked, "Are we going to sit here all day?"
Mulder spared her a glance, "No."
She waited for him to continue but as he often did, he waited for her to ask him what he meant. At this point in their partnership she imagined he enjoyed doing that to irk her. The jerk.
"No?"
"As much as I know you'd love to sit around all day, we should really get a look around this house."
"Oh so have we established a baseline of activity?"
"No, of course not, we need more time," he turned off the TV and stood to walk towards the stairs.
Scully sent a flat look his way before following him "Of course…"
They started in the other bedroom that was down the hall. Looking in there it was evident that Barry had indeed taking time to prepare for their stay. The room was particularly musty giving the impression it hadn't been inhabited in many years. The fabric-covered furniture had been covered with drop clothes to protect against aging. Scully approached the window and confirmed her suspicions upon finding a clear layer of dust on the windowsill.
"Hey Scully check this out."
She turned to find him crouched in front of the closet. It seemed he had located an old luggage chest underneath the collection of moth-eaten clothes. She crouched next to him to see what information it might hold.
"Makes you feel a bit like the Harty Boys huh?"
"I'd say Nancy Drew."
He lifted the lip of the chest to reveal only more boxes held within. Taking them out he passed them to Scully one by one. There were six boxes in total, some of them old gift boxes reused for storage, others were tins from old knickknacks.
Mulder chose one at random and settled in on the floor, opening it to find out what secrets it may hold. Scully, taking his lead did the same across from him on the other side of the stack of boxes.
Rifling through she found a box full of old pictures, separate stacks from throughout the years. Some looking to be decades old with frayed edges and black and white images. It appeared it was a collection of family photos from since they had first lived in the home, all the way to what she could identify as the 80s with the help of tell-tale hairstyles. Another box appeared to contain old mementos. She was able to find old baby teeth kept in small cloth purses. Along with broaches, what seemed to be ticket stubs, and other bits and bobs. Mulder uncovered the locations of important documents and forms about the home and it's past inhabitants. Scully opened her last box to find beautiful jewelry: necklaces, earring, rings, you name it. She was surprised it had been able to remain here untouched for so many years.
The last box was an old antique with a lock. Mulder tried to open it but it was, as they thought, locked.
He smiled up at Scully, "Figures."
"It would defeat the purpose if they had left it unlocked."
"I won't say you're wrong. But I wish you were wrong, finding the key is going to take a while."
"We have plenty of time since we have to establish a baseline right?" she smirked.
He sighed and reach over to grab the box of mementos and place it between them, taking out each item in hopes of finding the key. Scully joined in still smiling at their luck and Mulder's pout.
They sat in silence for a couple of moments as they filtered through the items, getting lost in their curiosity as they imagined what stories they held.
Scully held up an box of matches that according to the lettering was from a restaurant in New York.
"What would you leave behind?"
"You mean what would I leave in a chest in my closet for strangers to find long after I'd died?"
She scoffed, "Sure."
"I don't know…"
She waited for him to think over his reply.
"Is this a natural death at an old age? Or was it sudden and they'll just find things as I left them? Because if I have the choice I definitely have some tapes and reading material to get rid of…"
"Okay, it's old age and you can curate your chest."
"Then I'm sure there'd be some X Files in there…probably some photographic proof of the existence of extraterrestrials. A couple Lone Gunmen's…"
She raised a Scully brow.
"And I'd put some of my collectable baseball cards and balls from my favorite games," he then continued on in a lower tone, "Photos of Samantha and my family from before…"
Scully reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. He continued on, "I bet I could squeeze in some of the stuff I keep on my desk just as memories."
"I wonder if it would really give a sense of who you were without those tapes."
He chose not to comment, "What would you leave in yours?"
"Well…"
"Maybe a pair of scrubs?"
"Shut up, Mulder."
"Just asking."
"I'd leave some of my favorite books. Moby Dick no doubt. And looking at what's left here, I'd probably put some of the jewelry I've collected and inherited."
Mulder glanced at the cross necklace she always wore, nodding.
"My thesis and other academic work too…and pictures obviously…of everyone."
Teasing, "Would I be included?"
"If we have pictures of us, sure."
"You got a point, we don't take many of those do we?"
"No, no we don't. But I would say that's expected. Usually our time together doesn't leave much room for taking feel-good pictures."
He laughed lightly, "You mean you don't wish we had more recorded memories from all of our cases?"
"I think most of them I'm happy to forget," she shook her head.
"How about we stop here and make some lunch? I'm getting hungry."
"It is getting close to noon. And I don't think we'll find that key any time soon."
They both looked at the still half-full box they had been searching through.
"I just hope it's in there. Come on Scully, let's see what we can whip up."
He stood first and held out a hand to help her up.
