Field of Study by Maureen B. Ocks maureen_b_ocks@yahoo.com Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and all other familiar X Files characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and FOX. No copyright infringement intended. Archive -- Sure, just tell me and keep my name with it. Spoilers: "all things" I guess. Keywords: Not since the new Millennium. The following is a tribute to the miracles list mom Shari performs every time I send her something to beta read. She is amazing. Author's notes at the end. x=x=x The Field of Study by Maureen B. Ocks Every Saturday was the same. Mulder would rise from his bed feeling for all the world like Lazarus, though he didn't know for certain who or what had rolled the stone from his sleep. The only good Saturday mornings he had since Oxford were the few months he was married. Susan liked brunch. She put in 60 hours a week at Hoffman -Miller by Friday night, so Saturdays were hers. Saturday morning was theirs. Brunch at Nino's, hitting the Farmer's Market - even if the fresh food and vegetables sat and rotted in the crisper all week while they both worked. She'd get a manicure, he'd listen to the English imports at Tower waiting for her to dry. It was as close to normal as he ever felt. So of course it didn't last. He still took Susan out to brunch a week before her birthday every year - the new Mr. Susan wouldn't have it any other way. She said they had the best divorce of any of her friends. He occasionally thought of that as a source of pride. If Susan was putting in 60 hours a week in 1989, he was getting tired of 80 hours a week ten years later. Tired of work, tired of the bureaucracy, tired of all of it. Well, all of it but one thing. "Mulder?" Scully walked into his bedroom wearing his dress shirt he remember flinging across the room while she tossed her bra onto his dresser. "You have twelve packets of duck sauce, a carton of eggs dated October 19, 1998, two cans of Coors Light and a quart orange juice that was good enough to walk itself to the garbage pail when I opened the refrigerator door." "Work up an appetite last night Scully?" "After strenuous exercise, the human body is still burning calories. The post-exercise oxygen consumption..." "Is that what those noises were last night? Post-exercise oxygen consumption?" "The body needs fuel Mulder and since I didn't have dinner before your call last night." "You like brunch, Scully?" He watched her think before she answered. "No. Breakfast or lunch." "That's what I like about you. Black and white." "Like?" She smiled at him. "You like me?" "I think you had scientific proof of that during three different controlled experiments last night." "Is that what the kids are calling it today? Experiments?" "The Royal Canadian Pancake House has pizza pie sized pancakes if you need to carbo-load after last night experimentation and possibly store more for further scientific study later today." "Get out of bed and feed me." "Yes, Dr. Scully." Mulder padded naked to the bathroom. "You want to join me in the shower and contaminate the field of study?" "Sweet-talker." x-x-x OK, I actually wrote this during innings when the Yankees weren't batting during a 25 minute time period. I'm pretty sure it was 10 minutes combined but hey, it's the World Series, the Yankees are playing and I think Mulder would approve. Bone provided: Every Saturday was the same. Mulder would rise from his bed feeling for all the world like Lazarus, though he didn't know for certain who or what had rolled the stone from his sleep. The challenge - write for 10 minutes after that, no editing, no betaing. Feedback -- better than brunch!: Maureen_B_Ocks@yahoo.com