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MAKING A LONG STORY SHORT
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From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
                                    Date: 29 May 2002 12:14:32 -0000
                                    Subject: Making a Long Story Short by Waddles 52
                                    Source: direct
                                    
                                    Reply To: www.DASWaddles52@aol.com
                                    
                                    
                                    Title:  Making a Long Story Short
                                    Author:  Waddles52
                                    Summary:  Scully answers Mulder's questions about 
                                    their trip to New Mexico
                                    Spoilers:  Fill-in-the-blank for Anasazi
                                    Eating:  PG
                                    Archives:  After_the_Fact.  Others please ask.
                                    Disclaimer:  No copyright infringement intended.  
                                    Just for fun.  Not for profit.
                                    Feedback:  Sure.  DASWaddles52@aol.com
                                    
                                    Mulder came out of the bathroom and sat down very carefully on the
                                    side of the bed.
                                    
                                    "Are you okay?" Scully asked, concern on her face.
                                    
                                    "I'm a little shaky, but considering what the past few days have been
                                    like, I guess I'm okay.  Would you care to fill me in on what happened
                                    after you shot me?  I don't seem to remember much."
                                    
                                    "It's a pretty long story.  Why don't you drink this glass of water
                                    and let me change your bandages.  I'll try to fill you in."
                                    
                                    "Throw in a cheeseburger and fries and you've got a deal," he grimaced
                                    as she began to pull the tape from his shoulder.
                                    
                                    "Mr. Hosteen is going to bring us something to eat later.  For right
                                    now you need to concentrate on getting some fluids into your system."
                                    
                                    "Yes, Doctor," He teased and rolled his eyes upward.  "Ouch!  Easy on
                                    the tape!  I'd like to have a little chest hair left."
                                    
                                    "You drink and I'll try to make this long story short."
                                    
                                    "Okay.  Go," he said as he took a sip of water.
                                    
                                    "Some of your neighbors heard the gunshot and called 911, so I had to
                                    get you out of there fast.  Thank goodness I was able to rouse you
                                    enough to get you on your feet.  I practically carried you to my car,
                                    shoved you in the back seat and got the hell out of there."
                                    
                                    "Nosey neighbors.  Gotta love em, huh Scully?"
                                    
                                    "Especially yours."  She finished pulling off the bandages.  "It's
                                    looking good," Scully pronounced.  "I'll put on some antibiotic
                                    ointment, bandage it up again and give you some more antibiotics to be
                                    on the safe side."
                                    
                                    "What did you do after you got me in your car?" he asked.
                                    
                                    "Keep drinking and I'll keep talking."  He drank some more water and
                                    she continued.  "After I got you in the car I broke the sound barrier
                                    getting to my apartment.  You were completely out of it so I ran to my
                                    apartment and got my medical kit and some blankets.  After that I
                                    stopped at a drugstore for bandages and a few supplies and took off
                                    down I-95 hoping you weren't bleeding to death in the back seat of my
                                    car.  I finally pulled into a rest stop to dress your wounds and call
                                    Mr. Hosteen.  By then you were getting pretty restless.  You weren't
                                    making a lot of sense and were in quite a bit of pain so I injected
                                    you with some pretty strong stuff and hoped for the best."
                                    
                                    "You must be exhausted," he sympathized.
                                    
                                    "I've had a little sleep.  At the time I was mostly running on
                                    adrenaline.  When this is over I'll probably crash for a couple of
                                    days.  There, I've got you bandaged up again."  She rummaged around in
                                    her medical kit and came up with a hypodermic and a vial of
                                    medication.  "Sorry, but I've got to inject the antibiotics."
                                    
                                    Mulder made a face and stuck out his right arm.
                                    
                                    "Sorry, Mulder, but this needs to go in your hip,"  she apologized.
                                    
                                    Scully helped him stand and he shoved his jeans down far enough for
                                    her to give the injection.
                                    
                                    "Did Mister Hosteen say when he'd be back?"  Mulder asked as Scully
                                    helped him sit back down.
                                    
                                    "Hungry?"
                                    
                                    "Yeah, but more interested in what he has to show me."
                                    
                                    "Mulder, you need to recuperate a bit before you go traipsing off to
                                    the desert or wherever it is that he wants to take you," Scully
                                    advised.
                                    
                                    "I'll drink some more water and rest until he gets back with the food.  
                                    Okay?"  He scooted back and leaned against the headboard of the bed
                                    while Scully adjusted the pillows.
                                    
                                    "It's a start," she agreed.
                                    
                                    "You didn't happen to bring any clothes did you?  I seem to be missing
                                    a shirt."
                                    
                                    "I scrapped it back on I-95.  I did manage to find a Wal-Mart close
                                    by.  I picked up a few things for you while Mr. Hosteen stayed with
                                    you."  She handed him a blue Wal-Mart bag.  "It's a button-up shirt.  
                                    I thought it would be easier to get on and off.  There's also a
                                    toothbrush and a few other items.  I had to guess at your sizes.  I
                                    hope I was close."
                                    
                                    Mulder peeked in the bag.  "I'm sure everything will be fine," he
                                    assured her.
                                    
                                    Albert Hosteen opened the door.  "I've brought food," he announced.
                                    
                                    After they ate their fill, Mulder cleaned himself up and put on
                                    Scully's purchases.  Everything was a perfect fit.  He emerged from
                                    the bathroom ready to go.
                                    
                                    "I wish you would rest a little more.  You've been through quite a lot
                                    in the past few days," Scully pointed out.
                                    
                                    "I'm okay, Scully.  Really.  I need to do this.  We need some answers.  
                                    Both of us."
                                    
                                    "Just be careful.  Call me on your cell phone and let me know what's
                                    going on.  I'll continue to work on these translations until I have to
                                    leave."
                                    
                                    Mulder patted his pocket to be sure he had his phone.  "You'll never
                                    be more than a phone call away," he assured her.  "I'll call as soon
                                    as I know something."
                                    
                                    "Okay, Mulder," she sighed.  "Will you be coming back to D.C.?"
                                    
                                    "As soon as I possibly can."
                                    
                                    "I'll be waiting," Scully said as they went through the door.  She sat
                                    down at the desk and began pouring over the papers, trying to decipher
                                    what she could, all the time praying that Mulder would turn up
                                    something.  He had to.
                                    
                                    
                                    END