TITLE: Shooting Hoops (2/2) AUTHORS: Sally Bahnsen and XSketch EMAIL: XSketch@hotmail.com, salbahnsen@optusnet.com.au CATEGORY: MSR, MT, A RATING: PG-13.....maybe a little more for violence and language SUMMARY: One crazed fan, one ignorant athlete, one game and two FBI agents really do not mix. DISCLAIMER: See part one for all disclaimers and headers =================================================================== From his precarious position, Mulder could see the whole stadium. There was an unearthly silence as he hung suspended above the seats, swinging idly in a tight circle. He thought he saw a flash of red hair below him. No, it couldn't be. But then he saw it again. "Scull-eee!" His voice was raspy, strained. Could she even hear him? The look of shock on her face mirrored the fear he knew was etched on his own. He may have been spared the finality of hitting the ground, but how long would the cable be able to hold him? Blood flowed freely from the wound in his leg, dripping on his face, and splattering to the floor below. Adding insult to injury, he felt his cell phone slip from his pocket and plunge towards the ground. And then the cable shifted, just an inch or two, but Mulder's body jerked downwards with the sudden movement. His head throbbed and his vision blurred as gravity forced too much blood to his brain. How the hell was he going to get out of this one? ***************** Scully's phone slipped from her grasp and landed on the polished floor just as Mulder's fell from his upside-down pocket and smashed alongside it. She went to run forward in a desperate attempt to try to catch him or at least break the fall, but as quickly as his descent began, it came to an abrupt stop, and she was left blinking with confusion as he seemingly floated in mid air (the pain and terror carved in his features visible even from this far below him). "Mulder?" One of the lights in the rig blew, sending sparks flying everywhere, and a horrid creaking scratched at her senses. "He's snagged on a cable!" a voice suddenly exclaimed from somewhere behind her. ***************** The throbbing pain in his leg, loss of blood and his good friend: shock, all combined to send his heart rate skyrocketing and his head spinning. The roaring in his ears told him it would only be a matter of time before he would pass out. The only saving grace was that he'd be spared the agony of being awake when he finally plummeted to an almost certain death below. Mulder caught another glimpse of Scully standing beside a small child with a crowd of security guards gathered around her. She was staring at him, at first with uncertainty, then she seemed to come to a decision and with a new kind of fear in his heart, he understood what she was planning to do. He shook his head 'no' at her. If she tried to help him she risked being taken down when the rig gave way. He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry', and 'I love you' just before she took off in much the same way he had done what must have been only 10 or 15 minutes ago. 'Oh god' he prayed, 'please let me go before she gets to the top.' And with that last thought, his vision faded to black and the noise of screams and yelling grew more distant as he slipped into unconsciousness ***************** Scully held her breath, her heart hammering against her chest at a million miles an hour, as she saw the cable cradling his foot slacken even further. It wouldn't be long before the whole lighting rig crashed down to the court's surface with him. She had to rescue him. There had to be a way . Mulder shook his head as if begging her not to try to help. Scully knew he wouldn't want her up there risking her own life, but she'd be dammed if she was just going to stand by and watch him fall to his death. When he mouthed 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you', Dana knew she couldn't wait any longer. "I need some guards to come up there with me, someone to get the tallest ladder this place has...and will somebody *please* call for EMTs!" she barked out orders, rushing in the direction she'd seen Mulder take not ten minutes earlier and refusing to pause long enough to see if anyone was obeying or following her. ***************** The first thing Scully encountered when she finally made it to the top of the stadium was another security guard, his panicked expression telling her he'd been witness to Mulder's fall. A few seconds later, two more security staff joined her at the base of the ladder. "We've got to go up. He needs help." Scully stated the obvious, but by doing so it at least made her feel as if she was doing *something*. The first guy moved to the side, but caught her arm as she went to climb the ladder. "The shooter's still up there and since your partner fell, there's no guarantee that structure is still stable." It was logic she would have used in any other situation, and dammit she was trying to stay as calm as humanly possible (had to, in fact, congratulate herself for actually pausing long enough to listen to these people who didn't value Mulder's life anywhere near as much as she did), but the longer they stood here debating the 'right' thing to do, the shorter her partner's chances of getting out of this alive became. And she wasn't going to let him fall. "Whether anybody goes up there or not, that whole rig is gonna go," she snapped, tightly gripping onto one of the ladder's rungs with her right hand to both support her shaken, terrified frame, and make the point very clear that there would be no stopping her. "And the shooter?" Wilkes suddenly quizzed as he approached the small gathering. "You wanna get yourself shot, too? Or maybe someone else?" This was ridiculous - there was no time for this! - and with one last shake of her head as she glanced up at where Mulder hung, Dana started her ascent up the ladder; shaking, sweaty palms making it difficult to retain hold of the rungs. At the base of the ladder, Wilkes shook his head in disgust and then quickly snatched up his radio. "Maintenance? Anyone from maintenance there?" There was no reply, so he tried again to no avail. "God damn..." Wiping a hand across his dry mouth, he glanced up at the dangling figure raining blood upon the court and then at the three guards gathered beside him. "Virgil, you go up there with her - make sure you keep me informed on *everything* that's going on, no matter how insignificant it may seem." "Yes, sir!" the tall, gray-haired guard affirmed with a nod of his head. The supervisor smiled his appreciation at the older man before barking into the radio once more, "Mack? Where's that medical team?" "They're on their way, captain." "What about the emergency services?" "The same, except there's traffic all the way back to the Hudson so they may be another ten minutes. Hope you didn't have any bets on this game, sir." "Under the circumstances I'll pretend you just didn't say that," Wilkes coughed. Clipping the two-way back on his belt, he started making his way back down the seating blocks. "You two," he called over his shoulder before he got too far out of earshot, "with me - we gotta go get that scissor lift and move some people so that we can get it in here!" ***************** There was a metallic groaning noise and some movement as Scully pulled herself up onto the beam and took stock of her surroundings. The first thing her gaze fell on was the cowering, whimpering woman huddled at the far end of the walkway - a bolt-action rifle discarded and balancing hazardously on the strut five feet away. "I--...He--...I didn't mean--...*Make it stop*!" Scully considered her options, decided the sniper was subdued enough to not be a further threat, and then carefully inched toward where her partner hung. "Mulder? Mulder, it's me - can you hear me?" she called, leaning over the edge. From this angle, she couldn't see his face or exactly where the bullet had hit him, but she could see the pool of blood on the floor below and, added to his non-existent reply, it was enough for her to fear the worst. "We're gonna get you out of this, so don't worry. Just...Just hang in there, partner, okay?" She hated the pun, but hoped he could draw some strength from the hint of humor. He still didn't respond, but the framework let out an even louder protestation as Dan Virgil appeared at the top of the access ladder. "His foot's tangled in the cable," she announced, never taking her eyes off the black length saving her partner's life but feeling her fear rack up another notch as it dropped from the bar a fraction. "But he hasn't got long." Quickly, her gaze lifted to fix on the sniper. "They're getting the personnel lift in - it won't reach high enough, but they'll have a much better chance of safely catching him when he goes," the security officer replied. He put a foot up on the rafter, but when it shifted and let out a screech, he quickly reversed the move and sighed when silence fell once more. "What's your name?" Scully ground out, trying to remain as composed as possible but knowing she was failing miserably. "Why did you do it?" Laura shook her head and continued to babble nonsensically to herself as she rocked back and forth. "*Who are you*?" "...--uleeee..." Faint and barely there but there nevertheless; Scully's head snapped around at the sound of Mulder's whimper of her name and she quickly shifted to lean as far over the edge of the beam as possible. "I'm here," Dana gently assured, outstretching a hand to tenderly brush against his shin - unaware that the movement would send yet another surge of pain wracking through his leg and body. He instantly hissed and shuddered in response, and she quickly pulled the offending hand away. "Oh, Mulder...Why is it only you that can get into these messes, and so frequently, too?" This time his only reply was a low groan. "Can you tell me where it hurts? Where did you get hit?" "Hurtsss...wooo-zy...ti-tired-" "No, don't close your eyes...You know the drill by now: you have to stay awake!" "... sssss...heav--...head..." "No!" She sat up, feeling even more helpless than she had before as she looked out at the arena. He was going to fall and she couldn't stop it, just as she hadn't been able to stop them from coming to the game in the first place, or hadn't been able to stop him from running after the homicidal bitch that now cowered like a big baby in the corner and... ...And she had to stop thinking like this. Mulder was counting on her to save him and arrest the perp. He was counting on her to remain rational and take charge. Basically, he was counting on her, and blame or negativity wouldn't get them anywhere. "Virgil, we've got the lift," the security supervisor's voice suddenly came over the walkie-talkie. "We should be there in three minutes." As if sensing its chance to take them all down with it was slipping away, the rig creaked, groaned, shuddered, and then dropped several inches. Another light exploded in a shower of sparks and Mulder's unconscious body swung limply back and forth like a pendulum - the momentum causing the cable to tighten impossibly further around his ankle. "Sir, we...we don't have three minutes," Virgil managed to rasp out into the radio as he clung for dear life at the ladder. The tears had been welling up, unshed in the face of professionalism, but now there was no holding them back as Scully desperately reached over to grab onto Mulder's left foot with both hands and pulled as hard as she possibly could. As expected, his weight was too much to lift, but she wouldn't give up - *couldn't* give up... "Help me...please...Please, God, no..." Her head lowered as the sobs flooded from the depths of her being and trembling hands continued to scrabble at his leg. "Please..." Her last word was as quiet as possible, but Virgil had heard enough, and decided there was only one chance left. As carefully as possible, he clambered onto the beam too and smoothly moved up next to the female agent, outstretching his own hands to tug at Mulder's leg also. Suddenly from the other side of the court, there was a motorized sound, and both the security guard and Scully lifted their heads to see the large vehicle with the powered platform on the back drive into the stadium until it was just below them. "Lock it down!" Wilkes's voice could be heard commanding as his two colleagues rushed to either side of the vehicle. "See? It's gonna be okay," Virgil smiled at Scully, pretending to ignore the increasing groan emanating from each end of the strut. "He'll be safely on the ground again in no time." There was a whirring noise from below, and when he looked again, the platform was beginning its steady but slow climb upwards. Very slow climb. ...Maybe too slow... "It's not gonna hold any longer!" he called out. Wilkes shook his head with non-acceptance at the obvious. With the platform half-way as high it could go, he refused to believe they would lose this one now. With a deafening crash, the rig dropped a further ten inches. Scully grabbed for Mulder instead of the beam and almost threw herself off, whilst Virgil reached in his pocket and withdrew a knife. And all the while this was happening, the sniper responsible for everything continued to cry to herself. All three men on the platform raised their arms in the air as the platform reached its peak. "Cut it, Dan!" one of them called. Virgil nodded and lowered his knife to the cable. Dana heard the words and saw the action, but nothing registered until Mulder's body started free-falling again. "*No*!" The awaiting guards were able to slow his descent, but the agent's weight slipped through their fingers and dropped onto the blue platform with a muffled clang. The fact he was safe just a matter of feet and not meters below, though, sent a wave of relief beyond anything imaginable sweeping through Scully's body...until the beam buckled again. "Jump!" Virgil ordered, grabbing Scully's arm. "What about her?" - pointing toward the huddled figure. "I'll get her - just go!" Even more structural groaning, and she obeyed, easily dropping the ten feet to crouch down beside Mulder's motionless form without a backwards glance. "Lady, this is gonna fall in a minute, so why don't you just come here?" the guard started, standing up and taking a step toward the sniper. "I'm not going to jail!" "No - you're gonna end up dead if you stay up here, so..." Another step, more weight placed where it wasn't sturdy, and the rig had had enough - without warning the whole thing broke away from its supports and tumbled toward the floor. Virgil instinctively grabbed out for the first thing he could, and the next thing he knew he was being helped over the bar and onto the now-crowded platform. But the last thing heard from Laura was an ear-piercing scream, cut off by the almighty crash of metal smashing into the stadium floor. It all became too overwhelming, and before she even had chance to examine her partner's injuries, Scully passed out. ***************** MULDER/SCULLY RESIDENCE 3 DAYS LATER 8PM Mulder leaned back on the couch, his left leg stretched out in front of him and propped up on several pillows. It still throbbed mercilessly and every four hours on the dot, Scully would arrive with his painkillers and stand over him while he took them. Not that he needed any encouragement - the pain was sufficient enough that he didn't feel in the least bit inclined to argue. Not only had he suffered the bullet wound, but his knee and ankle had also taken a battering when they had taken the full brunt of his weight after he fell. Torn ligaments in both joints only added to his woes...not to mention the bruised ribs and grazed shoulder courtesy of his rescue drop. For the last three days Scully hadn't left his side. She hovered protectively over him in the hospital, checking and double-checking whenever a member of the medical staff came in to take his vitals or administer medication. By the time he'd been released she had just about pissed off every staff member she had come in contact with. In fact, when Scully had wheeled him towards the exit earlier that day, he could have sworn he'd heard a not-so-subtle cheer go up. "Mulder, here." Scully pulled him back from his reverie, thrusting more pain meds and a glass of water towards him. "It's time." He swallowed the pills, drank all of the water and shifted uneasily on the couch. At the moment his leg wasn't too bad, all things considered, but every time he moved, or breathed deeply or god forbid, coughed, his ribs screamed bloody murder at him. "How are you feeling?" She sat on the arm of the couch, staring into his eyes in a way that Mulder doubted very much meant that he was going to get lucky that night. He saw concern, and in an odd sort of way: fear, distance. 'His' Scully had almost completely disappeared behind an aloof curtain of professionalism, and despite her constant close proximity, Mulder felt as if she were miles away in every other respect. When he woke up in the hospital, he was sure he'd be in for an earful. Usually she would kick his ass from here to kingdom come for being so reckless; running off again and putting himself in danger. But she hadn't said a thing, just looked at him with something he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. She'd been walking on eggshells now for three days, treating him like he might disintegrate into a million pieces if she so much as looked at him sideways. Scully continued to watch him, her face too pale and her eyes haunted as if she were seeing something unbearable over and over in her mind. She was really starting to scare him. "Scully?" She stared right through him. "Scully!" She snapped back to the present with a soft gasp, and an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Mulder reached out and took her hand and made space for her beside him on the couch. "C'mere." He pulled her gently down. "No, Mulder, your injuries. . . " "I'm fine." He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile and, mustering all his strength, stretched his arm out along the back of the couch, inviting her in. She slipped into the warm cocoon of his body, careful of his ribs and shoulder. Mulder refused to accept her distance and scooped her closer, clenching his jaw against the pain in his side. Gently, he rubbed her arm, long soothing strokes from elbow to shoulder until he felt her begin to relax under his touch. "Scully, are you all right?" He felt her stiffen, and she snapped her head around to look at him, her expression making him wonder if he'd just sprouted another head. "Why would you ask me that?" She frowned, her tone defensive. "I don't know, you just--...you haven't been yourself. Scully, you'd tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn't you?" "Something wrong." She repeated under her breath. And then she puffed a soft snort. "Something wrong." Her gaze turned inward and she was lost in space again. "Scully?" She came back to herself almost immediately, turned back to look at Mulder and seemed as if she was about to say something. But instead, she covered her mouth with her hand and ran from the living room. A few seconds later Mulder heard the bathroom door close and the sound of painful heaving coming from down the hall. "Oh shit!" What the hell was going on with her? Mulder eased his leg off the couch, his movements slow and awkward and riddled with pain. He scooted forward and grabbed his crutches from the floor beside the couch. Again those damn ribs begged him not to move but this time he just ignored them. "Don't get off that couch, Mulder." Scully was in the doorway, her face pale and the hair around her face wet. "Jeezus, Scully, what happened? Are you okay?" "No. No, I'm not." The words hung like ice in the room. Slowly, Mulder sat back, keeping his leg straight out in front of him and one arm wrapped around his middle. The pain in his side was like a knife in his ribs. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, Scully?" Despite the burning in his side, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine, a heavy lump in his stomach. She was frightening him. Had that damn cancer come back? "What would be the point, Mulder?" She'd taken to pacing now. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. "Wha--...what do you mean?" "Because we've had this conversation a thousand times before, and not one of those times has it ever made any difference! Have you ever taken any notice?" She stopped, sucked in her bottom lip and chewed. In exasperation, she dropped her hands to her sides and sighed. "Just what would be the point?" This was more to herself rather than Mulder. Suddenly, it was starting to dawn on him. This was the ass-kicking he'd been waiting for. No problem, he knew he probably deserved it. All he had to do was sit there and ride out the storm. "Scully, I'm sorry. I know you were scared when I fell - shit, *I* was scared! I--" "No more, Mulder." She looked at him with an expression that chilled the blood in his veins. "No more what?" he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. "I can't take it any more. The other night, when you were dangling..." She shook her head, her body trembling slightly. "...bleeding, and the roof was falling and I had no idea...I didn't ...I-- " She sucked back a sob, raising a trembling hand to her face to cover her mouth. But another sob broke free, louder, filled with hurt, confusion, and it was the worst sound Mulder had ever heard in his life. "Scully, come here." He shuffled to the edge of the couch. Scully didn't move, she'd turned her back on him and he watched in horror as her shoulders shook with all the pain and fear and stress of what she'd been holding back since the other night. "Scully, please." His own voice was quaking. "Please, babe, come here." She turned to face him, her bottom lip still trembling, her sobbing a painful sound that caught in her throat and Mulder felt his world start to crumble. God, what had he done to her? He pushed himself up, every muscle in his body protesting, but none of his injuries hurting as much as the ache in his chest. He took one limping step towards her, his abused leg screaming at him to stop and for a moment his vision grayed and his stomach rose and he had to grab onto the wall for support. "Mulder! What are you doing?" He felt Scully grab his arm and wrap it over her shoulder, carefully guiding him back to the safety of the couch. She eased him down, lifted his leg and propped it back on the pillows. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He couldn't remember, his head was still woozy and he wasn't too sure about the stability of his stomach, either. If he could just rest and get his breath, let his head clear. "Mulder? Can you hear me?" "I'm okay, I'm alright." Mulder felt the couch dip, and Scully's warmth pressing against his side. For once his ribs didn't complain. He looked up at Scully. "What...what did you mean...you can't...take any more?" She closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out again. "Scully? What are you --- " "I don't *know*." She shook her head. "I don't know, Mulder. It's just...I can't watch you die again. For all intents and purposes you should be dead. You have no right to be here, laying on the couch, talking to me." Then, very quietly, "I thought I'd lost you." Her words were trembling and she shuddered against him. "You're going to leave me." He knew it. Somehow, all along, he knew it would happen. But Scully stared at him wide-eyed with shock, her head shaking. "No. No, never Mulder. God, why would you even think such a thing?" "But...what else is there? You love your job, you can't quit the FBI." "I love *you*." It was Mulder's turn to shudder. Memories of hurtling toward the ground had snapped him out of sleep and kept him awake without fail over the last few nights, and that was scary enough, but...What if it had been Scully up there, dangling from the cable only seconds away from death - her blood decorating the basketball court? How would he be reacting right now? The words 'strait' and 'jacket' crossed his mind. He reached up and cupped her cheek. They hadn't spoken of Laura or passed comment when they'd seen the news reports on the television at the hospital, but none of that mattered. What did, however, was that he'd rushed off without her watching his back or a second thought and put his life dangerously on the line yet again with almost fatal consequences. He needed to apologise for putting her through that helpless nightmare. "I'm sorry, Scully. I'm sorry for what you went through." She took his hand and stilled the gentle caresses on her cheek. "I know you are." After a few moments of silent contemplation, Mulder said, "What are we going to do?" Scully shrugged. "I don't really think there's an answer. I...I guess I was...I'm.... I'm maybe...suffering some kind of delayed shock." She squeezed his hand. "I was so certain that I wouldn't be able to save you in time." "But you did, Scully." "Mmmm." She smiled at him and after a few moments added. "You really thought a basketball game was going to be the surprise of my life?" "Hey, I dare you to tell me you weren't surprised." He teased, relieved that Scully's mood had lightened a little. "Well, next time you want to surprise me, how about you make it something a little more sedate." She traced a lazy circle on the palm of his hand. "Did I ever mention the Kirov Ballet are performing at the Kennedy Center?" "Ballet--" He was mid protest when he remembered her sobs, the look of utter devastation on her face. With a brighter tone to his voice, he said "The Ballet sounds like a great idea, Scully." "Don't make promises you can't keep - it's not nice." "Seriously, if that's what you want, then we'll go." She frowned and pulled away fractionally. He actually sounded... genuine? "Really? You - Fox William Mulder - would go to the ballet with me?" She reached up and felt his forehead. "You don't seem to be running a fever...Are you sure?" "Yeah. I'm sure." And with that he pulled Scully down so she was laying along the length of the couch, cradled in his arms, and despite the throbbing in his ribs and leg, for just a moment, he didn't think life could get any better than this. "Hey, Scully?" "Mm hmm?" "Do they sell hot dogs at the Ballet?" "Oh, Mulder!" ========== THE END