Date sent: Mon, 06 Apr 1998 21:14:34 -0400 From: "Shannon O'Connor" Subject: NEW -- A Midol Kind of Morning -- VH -- PG TITLE: A Midol Kind of Morning AUTHOR: Shannon O'Connor E-MAIL: shannono@iname.com DATE: 20 January 1998 DISTRIBUTION: Please; just let me know where. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: VH SPOILERS: Emily CONTENT WARNING: None KEYWORDS: None SUMMARY: Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully may SEEM to always have it together, but some days ... COMMENTS: I've had MY share of mornings like this, so I figured even Scully should have one now and then. No plot, no X-file; it's just for fun! ********** A Midol Kind of Morning By Shannon O'Connor Dana Scully flailed one arm out from under the covers, finally managing to slap the snooze button to shut up her screaming alarm clock. She burrowed further into her bed, pulling one leg up almost to her chest and squeezing her eyes more tightly shut to block out the sunlight streaming in through the window. Letting out a soft sigh, she dozed back off ... *BEEP!*BEEP!*BEEP!*BEEP!*BEEP!* Groaning, Scully rolled toward the nightstand and hit the snooze again before falling back onto the bed. she thought. Then another thought occurred. Was it just coincidence that the snooze alarm was the same length of lost time usually experienced during alien encounters? She groaned again and pulled a pillow over her face. "Oh, God," she said, her voice muffled by the cotton padding. "I've been around Mulder too long. I'm starting to have crazier ideas than him!" She lay there a few more minutes, then decided to move it before she got another dose of that lousy alarm clock. Shoving her feet from under the covers, she dangled them off the bed and dragged herself into a seated, albeit slouched, position, her eyes still tightly shut. Blindly, she reached for the alarm and switched it off, then sat still as she gradually pried her eyes open. Squinting, she ran a hand through her hair, then stretched a little, pulling back at the sudden stabbing of pain from her lower abdomen. she thought. She staggered to her feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, where she pulled a bottle of Midol from the medicine cabinet and towels and tampons from the linen closet. She took two pills, then pulled off her pajamas and climbed wearily into the shower. She turned down the hot water a bit, hoping a cooler spray would open her eyes. It didn't work. She needed an intravenous dose of caffeine, and fast, to wake up this morning. Shutting off the water, she pulled herself out of the tub and took care of business on the toilet, then wrapped her robe tightly around her and staggered into the kitchen. She managed to spill coffee on the counter and floor, splash water on herself, and nearly forgot to add the pot before she switched on the coffeemaker. "Why is it I need a cup of coffee before I can even make a cup of coffee?" she muttered as she shuffled to the refrigerator for breakfast. She opened the door and skimmed the contents. A nearly- empty carton of milk. Two slightly overripe grapefruit. she wondered idly. One egg, probably overripe itself. Not much else, and nothing else that could be considered breakfast. She groaned as another pain shot through her abdomen and decided on cereal. Boring, but food. She grabbed the milk, shut the door and plopped the carton on the table. She crossed to the cabinets for her boring box of bran flakes, but then shifted onto the balls of her feet to reach the smaller boxes buried in the depths of the shelves, kept there for variety's sake -- and to humor the occasional overnight guest. Extracting the first one she grabbed, she inspected the label. Frosted Flakes. Ooh, yeah. Sugar rush. "Sounds good," she almost hummed. She pulled out a bowl and spoon, ripped into the box and dumped the sweet stuff into the bowl, adding the last of the milk. She grabbed the biggest mug she owned, poured it full of coffee, and added creamer, stirring it with her cereal spoon. She padded into the living room, plopped down on one end of the sofa and curled her legs under her. She devoured the cereal quickly, slurping the last of the syrupy milk from the bottom of the bowl, then sat back with her coffee mug in hand and closed her eyes. The pain in her pelvis was almost gone and her headache was subsiding. she thought. She smiled, her eyes still closed, and lifted her cup for the last long swallow of by-now lukewarm coffee. She set the cup back on the end table and ... The phone rang. She groaned deep in her throat. She knew who it was. She just hoped he wasn't calling to break the news about another cross-country trek. She groped for the phone on the end table, refusing to open her eyes unless it was absolutely necessary. She picked up the receiver, hit the talk button and said, "Mulder, I hope you aren't calling to tell me to pack." A pause, then a chuckle. "You know me too well, Scully. No, you don't have to pack this time, but I do need you to go up to Baltimore to do an autopsy. I'm on my way up there now. I can either tell you the details over the phone, or stop by to pick you up and tell you on the way." "Where are you?" Scully asked. "I'm just about to the Beltway from downtown, which is why I called, to see if I should head north or over to Annapolis." She sighed. "Come on by here. I can be ready by the time you get here, if you don't drive quite as fast as you normally do." Another soft laugh. "I promise to at least stay close to obeying the speed limit, if you promise not to complain about my driving." She smiled. "I promise to try. Good enough?" "I guess it'll have to do. See you in a few." Scully shut the phone off, sat for a few minutes, then managed to shove herself off the sofa and head for the bedroom. she thought ... **********END**********