Going Home
by beduini

First post:  October 1998. Revised August 2000.


Rating:  NC-17 for sex and profanity.

Category:  A, MSR

Keywords:  Scully/Other, then Mulder/Scully

Summary:  Mulder and Scully encounter each other after two years 
apart and are forced to deal with their unresolved feelings.

Spoilers:  A tiny one for The Jersey Devil, The Host and Home, and a 
mention of Emily. I'm taking the liberty of ignoring Mulder's 
red/green colorblindness disclosed in Wetwired so that he can 
appropriately admire the color of her hair.

Disclaimer:  Chris Carter, Fox & 1013.  Not me.  Except Greg, he's 
mine but you can use him if you want.

Archive: Ask first, please.

Going Home
by beduini

A dark-haired, lanky, well-dressed man sat outside of a gate in an 
airport waiting area with his elbows on his knees, a pile of 
sunflower seed shells on the floor between his feet.  His handsome 
face was void of expression and he looked out into the terminal as 
he casually cracked the seeds between his teeth, dropping another 
shell onto the floor.

Dulles Airport on the Friday afternoon before Labor Day was not the 
place to pass a couple of hours.  The airport was congested with 
holiday travelers making their way to and from their loved ones and 
enjoying the last moments of summer.  

Since he didn't have any plans other than the quick flight to 
Chicago to follow up on a lead, Special Agent Fox Mulder had no 
sense of urgency.  He usually didn't spend a lot of time watching 
the pedestrians maneuver through the corridors and gift shops, but 
since he was flying standby, and flights were delayed due to the 
increased amount of travelers, he casually perused faces while he 
sucked on his seeds.  

Most people wore a look of rushed purpose, lost in their own plans 
and arrangements.  He was the enigma, idly cracking shells without 
expression or emotion.  It was as if he were sitting in real time as 
the world around him moved in fast forward.

Both time frames seemed to come together as he sat up, his eye 
caught by one particular woman who had entered the nearest gift and 
news shop.  He didn't see her face – the copper flash of hair alone 
wasn't enough to alert him, but in combination with her tiny frame 
and the way she moved it was a dead giveaway.  He brushed the salt 
off of his hands and stood up, trying to get a better look.  
Catching a glimpse of her inside of the shop, he crossed the 
corridor in several long strides, weaving easily through the crowd.

The petite woman stood in front of the current periodicals, silently 
scanning the latest issue of Newsweek.  She wore her hair longer 
than he remembered ever seeing it and she was dressed in a casual 
pair of slacks and a light summer sweater instead of a business 
suit.  Still, there was no mistaking that it was the same woman.

He approached her slowly; his nerves suddenly jumping but apparent 
to no one except himself.  He stopped a few steps behind her, 
pausing to see if she had felt his presence.  Her head came up and 
her shoulders tensed a split second before he spoke to her.

"Scully?"

She sucked in a quick breath of air; her reaction startled as she 
turned eyes wide and mouth open.  She expertly masked her 
expression, her lips curling into a tight smile.

"Mulder."

There was a pregnant pause as tension hung between them.  Then they 
both spoke at the same time.  She apologized first, and he said, 
"No, go ahead" with a smile.

"Are you just coming in or leaving?" she asked with forced 
lightness.

"Just a quick trip up to Chicago and the redeye back.  A lead I 
wanted to follow.  You?"

She let out a breath.  "I'm visiting my mother for a few days."

They nodded dumbly at each other, avoiding direct eye contact.

"So how do you like San Diego?" he asked after the awkward silence, 
trying to be casual.

"It's great.  Warm.  It's, uh, really warm."

He scanned her face, noting the familiar mask of control.
"You've gotten some sun."

Her hand came up to the side of her face reflexively.  
"Oh...freckles," she reminded herself, a slight frown on her lips.

There was another pause.  "So..."

As he began speaking a tall, tanned man came up behind her.  There 
was a large sports bag slung over his shoulder.

"Dana?"

For a moment she looked like a rabbit caught in headlights on a 
desert road.  She turned toward the man who had just joined them.  

"Um, Greg, I'd like to introduce you to someone."

Mulder looked at Greg.  He was slightly shorter, but not by much, 
and athletically muscular without looking pumped up.  His hair was 
dark with sunbleached highlights and he was wearing a pair of 
comfortable jeans and a white polo shirt with a Nike logo.  He 
reeked of California.  Probably surfs as well, Mulder thought.

Greg looked up expectantly as Dana said, "Greg Miller, this is Fox 
Mulder."

Greg flashed a blinding white smile rivaling the white of his shirt.  
"Fox?" he asked, extending his hand.

"Uh, Mulder."  He shook the man's hand with a polite smile.

Greg looked back at Dana.  "So, how do you two know each other?"

Mulder looked at her with surprise.  Without meeting his gaze, she 
replied, "Mulder and I used to work together."

"Oh, G-man, huh?  Are you still with the Bureau?"

"Yes, actually, I'm on a case right now.  I just happened to run 
into..." he hesitated a moment, "Dana, so I stopped to say 'hello.'"  
Scully's eyes rose to his with an intense glare when he spoke her 
first name.

Greg was all ease and affability.  "A case?  Anything interesting?"

"If you call a child molesting fetishist interesting."

Greg grimaced and then smiled down at Dana.  "You know, I can never 
get Dana to talk much about her work at the Bureau.  To hear her 
tell it, she spent most of her time in the morgue hacking up dead 
bodies."

Scully was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but said 
nothing.  Mulder glanced at her, noting her defensive stance.  
"Well, she was the best forensic pathologist we had."

Greg put an arm around her shoulders.  "I guess cancer research is a 
lot less exciting in comparison, isn't it, Dana?"  Mulder slightly 
stiffened at the man's familiarity, glancing at Scully.  She was 
staring at the floor, her arms crossed defensively in front of her 
chest. 

Greg continued, "You know, Fox, it's too bad you're going out of 
town or I'd suggest that the three of us get together for drinks or 
something while we're here.  I'd love to hear about some of your 
investigations."

Mulder glanced at Scully again, and again she avoided his gaze.  He 
smiled at Greg, suddenly amicable.  "Actually, this is a short trip 
and I'll be back in town late tonight or tomorrow.  If you want I 
can give you a call and set something up.  Where are you staying?"

Stiffening, Scully looked up at him with alarm, but Greg failed to 
notice.  Before she could offer an excuse, he said, "We'll be at the 
D.C. Hilton until Monday.  The room is in my name."

"Great.  I'll look forward to it."  Mulder shook Greg's hand again, 
and with a nod to Scully, he walked away.  She watched him with a 
crease in her forehead, biting her lower lip as he disappeared into 
the crowd of holiday travelers.

X~X~X~X~X

Her mother's house hadn't changed since the last time she was there, 
almost two years ago.  Dana ran her hand along the mantle of the 
fireplace, admiring the family photos and sipping on a glass of red 
wine.  

Her mother sat with Greg on the sofa just opposite her, sharing 
their mutual feelings about the California sunset.  Dana had been 
unusually silent since they had arrived, and Margaret Scully glanced 
up at her daughter from time to time, checking her mood.

"Do you like to sail, Mrs. Scully?  The next time you come to visit 
Dana we could go out on my boat and watch the sunset.  The colors 
playing off of the water are amazing."

"That sounds lovely."  She smiled at the handsome man, glancing up 
at Dana once again.

"Dana and I took your son Bill and his family on a cruise up to 
Catalina a few weeks ago.  We had a great time, didn't we Dana?"  
She smiled at him, nodding her agreement.  "We thought Tara was 
going to spend the entire trip seasick, but she adjusted pretty well 
once Dana gave her the Dramamine patch.  The kids were great."

Margaret smiled at her daughter.  "I'm happy to hear that Dana and 
Bill are spending time together.  The kids had all been so close 
when they were young.  They seemed to drift apart for a while, after 
Melissa..."

Greg's face clouded in acknowledgement of Dana's deceased sister.  
Margaret noted that she hadn't let any untold secrets slip and 
continued, "Thankfully, Dana decided to move closer to her brothers 
after she left the Bureau.  I miss having her nearby, but I can see 
that she's found some happiness in San Diego."  She patted Greg on 
the arm for emphasis.

"I'd like to think that I have something to do with that."  Greg 
grinned at Dana and she reciprocated with a distracted smile.  "You 
know, Mrs. Scully, I was hoping that our visit here would loosen 
Dana's tongue a little about her past.  She doesn't speak much about 
her time at the Bureau."  He looked up at Dana again.  "Maybe your 
friend Fox will shed a little light on that subject?"

Margaret Scully paled as she and exchanged a look with her daughter.  
There was a long silence, filled with tension felt only by mother 
and daughter.  "Fox?"

Greg mistook her question, assuming she didn't know to whom he was 
referring.  "Dana ran into an acquaintance from the Bureau in the 
gift shop at the airport today.  Fox Mulder was his name.  I've 
never met anyone named Fox before, although some of the ball players 
I deal with at work have some pretty unusual names.  Anyway, we're 
supposed to get together for drinks sometime this weekend."

Dana looked at her mother, her blue eyes silently asking her not to 
pursue the subject.  Margaret read her daughter's gaze and stood up, 
heading for the kitchen.  "Oh, that sounds nice."  Her voice was 
strained with forced casualness.

Dana stared into her wineglass as her mother left the room.  Greg 
held his hand out to her.  "C'mere" he said, drawing her close to 
him.  She sat down on his lap and he took the wineglass from her 
hand, placing her arms around his neck and touching his forehead to 
hers.  "I'm a little restless from the flight and could use a 
shower.  What do you say we head back to the hotel?"  He ran his 
hands up and down her back, soothingly.

She took a deep breath, her hand playing with the short hair at the 
back of his neck.  "Greg, I have something I want to ask you and I 
hope that you won't take it the wrong way."  She stiffened slightly 
and drew in a deep breath.  "I know it's our first night here, but 
I'm feeling a bit nostalgic and a little homesick.  Would you mind 
going back to the hotel without me, just for tonight?  I'd really 
like to spend some time with my mom and sleep in my old bed.  It's a 
twin, unfortunately."

He tucked her hair back behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his 
hand.  This was not such an unusual request coming from Dana - he 
knew she liked having her own space.  "How can I deny you time with 
your mother when you look at me like that?"  He kissed her lips 
softly.  "Anyway, I was hoping to get a little time in on the tennis 
court, and maybe some circuit training in the morning.  How about I 
meet you back here tomorrow about eleven?  That will give you a 
little extra time for coffee and catching up."

She nodded, smiling at him gratefully.  "I'll walk out with you.  I 
need to get my bag out of the car."

She had retrieved her bag, said her goodnight to Greg and returned 
to the house by the time Margaret had come back from the kitchen. 
Dana looked up briefly, then averted her eyes as he mother studied 
her with concern.

"Did Greg leave?" Margaret asked.

"Yes."  She crossed her arms in front of her and looked at her 
mother.  "Mom, I hope you don't mind, but I told him I'd like to 
stay here tonight."

Margaret's face was sympathetic, a wise look in her blue eyes.  "I'd 
like that."  She watched her daughter for a moment.  "Dana, 
honey..."  

Dana stopped her with her usual, 'end-of-subject' reply before she 
could continue.

"I'm fine, Mom."

X~X~X~X~X

The trip to Chicago had been successful, and thanks to Mulder's 
astute profiling skills, the agents in the Chicago field office were 
able to make an arrest that evening.  Despite the holiday weekend 
the shuttle back to D.C. was fairly empty due to the late hour.  

With the case out of the way and a scotch in his hand Mulder's 
thoughts returned to the chance meeting in the airport earlier that 
morning.  She looked good.  Except for the change in hairstyle she 
looked like he had just seen her yesterday instead of nearly two 
years ago.

Two years.

Two long years of loneliness and meaningless day to day rituals.  He 
still had his work, but since there was no longer a quest, a truth 
to be found, it was routine.  He found some comfort in the 
investigation and resolution of a case like the one today, but when 
the work was done and he was alone with himself again the familiar 
emptiness returned.  Tonight it enveloped him in a dark coldness 
that made him shiver.  He asked the hostess for another scotch.

The alcohol was a temporary reprieve, warming his throat and his 
insides on its way down.  It was not his practice to seek relief in 
a bottle, but tonight he welcomed the distraction.

She is there.

Scully.  In DC.

With a man.  A lover.  A man who isn't him.

He looked back on their last meeting before she moved to San Diego.  
His eidetic memory recalled small details, such as the exact color 
of her azure eyes and the errant strand of hair on the right side of 
her face swirling in the light breeze.  He avoided the important 
things, the painful things, such as who wouldn't talk to whom, who 
was to blame and why she had gone.  All he knew was that she had 
left him.  Alone.  The one thing in life that he had feared the most 
– more than never knowing the truth of the questions he had sought.  
More than his own death.

Scully had left him.

The captain had signaled their descent into Dulles and he pulled his 
seat upright, handing the empty glass and mini scotch bottles to the 
hostess.  He stared out the window at the city lights far below.  
Tonight he wouldn't sleep, would find no peace in his troubled mind 
as it replayed events of the past, because he knew that tomorrow he 
would see her again.

X~X~X~X~X

Dana and Margaret had spent their Saturday morning drinking coffee 
and catching up on recent events that had happened to family and 
friends.  It was comforting to be at home in her mother's house 
surrounded by warm memories of family and dinners and holidays past. 

Margaret pulled out some of the old photo albums and they laughed as 
they recalled the events behind the moments frozen on paper, now 
fading from the passage of time.  Dana was happy reliving her 
childhood, the happiness giving way to sadness only when she came 
upon the pictures of her sister Melissa as a small child.  Melissa 
looked so much like Emily, Dana's daughter.  The daughter she didn't 
know she had, had found out about too late and spent too little time 
with before a terminal illness claimed her life.  

And yet, there was comfort in the family resemblance between Emily 
and Melissa.  

Greg arrived shortly before eleven, joining them on the sofa and 
smiling as Dana chuckled and pointed out the last pages of her high 
school milestones, college snapshots and awards and honors.

"Besides being a super-brain, you were something of a tomboy as a 
girl, weren't you, Dana?" Greg asked, pleased that he had discovered 
a previously hidden secret from her past.

"I was more focused on my ideals and my future than I was on makeup 
and clothes, she replied with a smile.  "Melissa was always trying 
to get me to cut my hair in the latest style or shop with her for 
the trendy fashions.  But I wanted to conduct experiments in the 
back yard and climb around in the treetops with Bill and Charlie."  

As Dana closed the photo album, Greg looked her over, admiring her 
feminine sundress and sandals, her bare arms and legs glowing with a 
slight tan that looked pretty good on her fair complexion.  It was 
so hard to picture Dana as anyone other than the soft, feminine 
creature before him.  

"Is that why you joined the FBI?  You wanted to shoot guns and hang 
out with the boys?" His voice was teasing, and she relaxed after the 
usual stiffening that occurred whenever anyone mentioned her 
connection with the FBI.

"I saw the FBI as a place where I would be able to excel... 
distinguish myself.  I had a lot that I wanted to prove, both to my 
family and to myself."

"And did you?"  Greg took her hand in his, caressing it softly with 
his thumb.

She took a deep breath, considering the question.  "I found answers 
to many of my questions.  But I no longer need to know ALL of the 
answers."

He sat up and kissed her bare shoulder.  "I have a few questions of 
my own, and I hope that I'll find the answers today.  We're meeting 
your friend for lunch at 12:30; he called the hotel this morning." 
He smiled like a child waiting to open his birthday present.  "Be 
prepared to have your entire career at the FBI laid out on the 
table."

Dana forced herself to smile, but the look in her eyes was troubled.  
There wasn't any way of getting out of it gracefully without having 
to explain the situation, and she wasn't prepared to do that.  
"Alright, but I'm warning you.  You make one joke about Hannibal 
Lechter and I'm outta there."

Margaret sat silently, listening and observing her daughter.  So 
many things had hurt Dana.  She had always been the strongest of all 
the Scully children - she would bear all of the pain and loss that 
she'd experienced with her shoulders straight and her chin held 
high.  But after a failed relationship that had devastating effects, 
a move across the country and a change in career, she was finally 
beginning to allow herself to feel again.  Dana's wounds were 
healing.

Margaret hoped that would still be true at the end of the day.

X~X~X~X~X

Mulder had chosen the Headless Woman's pub for lunch, and Greg was 
delighted with the ambience.  He took an immediate liking to Fox's 
dry sense of humor and chatted amiably in his usual, open manner as 
they perused the menus.  

Mulder noticed that Scully was letting Greg steer the conversation, 
quietly sitting back in her chair, avoiding eye contact unless 
spoken to.  He took in her appearance - the soft sundress and 
tanned, bare arms and shoulders - without being obvious about it.

She looked good.  TOO good.

Greg was affable as he answered Fox's inquiries about his career in 
promotion with the San Diego baseball franchise, and the first time 
he and Dana met.

"I was playing beach volleyball on a Sunday afternoon with a few of 
the guys and I twisted my ankle coming down from a spike.  I was 
hurt pretty badly and Dana came over to see if she could help.  I'd 
noticed her earlier, sitting on a blanket a few yards away, reading 
and soaking in the rays.  We started talking and I asked her out to 
dinner.  Lucky for me she accepted."

Mulder smiled at her and their eyes met briefly, sharing a dark look 
that didn't show on their faces.  Then he turned to Greg.  "So 
you're somewhat of a sports enthusiast I take it."

"Growing up in California, the climate is perfect for it.  Surfing 
in the summer and skiing in the winter.  The weather is mild enough 
to sail year-round.  It's a sportsman's paradise - we're out doing 
something every weekend.  How about you?"

Mulder looked at Scully with surprise.  She wasn't much of a sports 
enthusiast when he knew her.  "Oh yeah, I love baseball, and 
basketball is my life.  I've been following the Knicks since I was a 
kid."

Greg sat up straighter.  "Really?  You shoot hoops?"

"Definitely.  There are a few guys that I shoot with down at the 
YMCA."  A light went on behind Mulder's eyes – an idea was forming.  
"We're getting together tomorrow morning if you'd like to join us."

"Yeah, that sounds great.  Ok with you, Dana?"  Greg looked over at 
his girlfriend for her approval.

She forced tight-lipped smile.  "Um, yeah.  Sure."

"You're welcome to come along and play too, Dana."  Mulder taunted 
her with the use of her first name for the second time in two days. 

"Thank you, Fox, but no."  She threw him a look, her eyebrow raised 
in challenge.  She was still smiling, but the dark look was also 
there as well.

The waitress stopped at their table and took their order and soon 
Greg had Fox engaged in the retelling of some of his most recent 
investigations.  Mulder was charming and humorous, seeming to be at 
ease with his new acquaintance.  Dana listened with fond remembrance 
and jealousy over the cases that Mulder had investigated without 
her.  It became evident that he was trying to keep the situation 
light and she began to relax a little.  After their food arrived, 
the conversation turned toward some of the past investigations that 
they had worked on together.

Mulder started with the retelling of their adventure with the beast 
woman that they had encountered in New Jersey, moving on to the 
half-human, half-worm man that they had discovered in the sewers and 
the family that had in-bred for decades creating offspring that 
resembled monsters.  He kept the conversation casual, using a lot of 
humor, and leaving out some of the more intense and disturbing 
situations they had encountered.  

By the time they had finished their meal, Scully had added a few of 
her insights and observations.  She even laughed once or twice by 
the time the check came, and Mulder insisted on paying while she 
excused herself to go to the ladies' room.

Greg turned to the agent after she was out of earshot.  "So, Fox, it 
sounds like you and Dana worked on a lot of cases together."

"Yeah."  Fox's face was blank, impossible to read.  "We were, uh, 
partners."  

Greg's mouth opened slightly in surprise.  "Partners...um, you mean 
like Danny Glover and Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon?"

"Yeah, JUST like that," Mulder smirked.  "She was Danny Glover."

Greg laughed.  "It's just so strange to think of Dana running around 
carrying a gun and a badge."

Mulder nodded slightly, a gleam in his eye.  "She could kick your 
ass in a heartbeat while wearing three inch pumps and you'd never 
realize what hit you."  His look became somber.  "She never told you 
any of this?"

Greg shrugged.  "She's very private about her past.  Don't 
misunderstand, she's not quiet or unfeeling, she just doesn't talk a 
lot about things that she's been through.  I think she's been hurt 
pretty badly by someone.  From what I can gather, he must have been 
one hell of a selfish bastard."

Mulder fixed his eyes on Greg.  "The worst kind of selfish bastard 
you could imagine."

Greg saw the deep, disturbed look in Fox's eyes and leaned forward, 
his eyes narrowing.  "Then you knew him?"

"You could say that."  Dana returned just then, interrupting the 
conversation.  Sensing the change of mood, she quickly suggested 
that they leave, claiming to have plans with her mother that 
afternoon.  

Mulder and Greg firmed up their plans for the next morning and as 
they said their good-byes, a look was held and then passed between 
Scully and Mulder.  There were many issues unresolved.

X~X~X~X~X

There weren't any plans with her mother that afternoon, but Dana had 
Greg drop her off at her mother's house just the same.  It wasn't 
uncommon when they were at home for them to spend hours apart 
indulging in their own interests, and he was going to look up 
another guest at the hotel for a rematch of their tennis game the 
night before.  She agreed to meet him back at the hotel in time for 
dinner and he left her with a kiss and a promise to go out on the 
town and spend a romantic evening alone together.

Margaret was waiting for her daughter inside.  She watched her 
daughter's face as only a mother could for the telltale signs of 
pain, evidence of cracks in Dana's well-built wall of control.  

Dana showed no outward signs of duress, sitting next to her mother 
on the sofa for a few minutes before speaking in a small, hoarse 
voice.  The voice reserved only for a child confiding in a parent.

"I feel as if I've taken a step backwards in time and the last two 
years didn't happen."  She drew in a deep breath, and let it out 
slowly.  "I am sitting on this sofa with you just as I did then, 
trying to make sense of the rest of my life, trying to decide if I 
should stay or if I should move on."  She looked up at her mother, 
her eyes expressing the confusion that her statement held for her.

Margaret's eyes gazed back in understanding.  "How is he?"

"Good.  He looks good.  Maybe a few more gray hairs, but it suits 
him."

They were silent for a moment, then Margaret asked, "What did you 
talk about?"

"Oh, sports.  Some of our earlier cases.  Nothing of any substance, 
really...he was friendly and charming, on his best behavior.  He 
appears to be doing just fine."

"And Greg?"

Dana chuffed, looking down at her hands.  "Greg is so eager to like 
everyone.  He thinks he's found a new playmate.  They're playing 
basketball together tomorrow morning."  She drew in a breath and it 
caught in her throat slightly as she let it out.

Margaret's heart went out to her child.  There was nothing she could 
do except listen and pray for her.  Dana would find her own way now 
as she always had.  Still, it hurt to see her so emotionally 
insecure.  She took her daughter's hand and held it tenderly.  "What 
is it, Dana?"

Tears welled up in her eyes and Dana sniffed, fighting back the 
onslaught.  "I don't know.  I need to talk to him, to see that he's 
really okay."  She struggled, fighting her emotions.  "I saw the 
look in his eyes, Mom.  It's like I'm feeling the same emotions all 
over again and I am just as powerless to do anything now as I was 
then.  Two years have passed and yet nothing has changed."

Tears had formed in Margaret's eyes as well.  She caressed Dana's 
cheek and said the words that she knew her daughter wanted to hear.  
"Except now he seems willing to speak to you about it."

She struggled against her tears for a long while, squeezing her 
mother's hand in response, lost in her thoughts.  Then she looked 
up, her eyes full of resolve.  

"I need to go out for a little while."  She wiped the tears away 
with her hand.  "Can I borrow your car?"

X~X~X~X~X

Fox Mulder sat alone in his apartment, his hazel eyes dark and 
brooding.  The square of sunlight on the floor in front of the 
coffee table slowly inched across the room toward the far wall as he 
remained motionless, staring ahead and lost in the blackness of his 
self-diagnosed empty soul.  He was the sorriest, most selfish son of 
a bitch the world had ever seen. 

There was no sound except for the humming coming from the filter on
the aquarium next to the window.  He would wait – all night if he 
had to.  She would be coming.  He was certain of it when he saw the 
look in her eyes just before they parted on the street a few hours 
earlier.  He knew Dana Scully as well as he knew himself and there 
was too much history to be ignored.  They had left too many things 
unfinished between them.

The square of light was halfway up the wall and the room was cast in 
shadows when the sound of footsteps in the corridor stopped in front 
of his apartment door.  There was a moment of silence, followed by a 
soft knock.  The sound was amplified in the stillness of the quiet 
apartment and his muscles tensed.  He rose slowly, and walked over 
to the door.

She stood in the doorway framed by the light of the hall, her auburn 
hair cascading in soft waves around her face and shoulders instead 
of pulled back in the low, loose braid as she had worn it at lunch.  
She no longer straightened it like she used to, instead letting the
natural wave fall where it may.  He thought she looked beautiful.

Without a word he studied her, then turned and walked back over to 
the sofa, sitting back down.

Scully entered the apartment and closed the door softly behind her, 
looking around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness within.  The 
apartment was the same as she remembered, although the television 
was newer and bigger. She walked over to the coffee table and laid 
her purse down, then sat in the chair opposite the sofa.  She looked 
at Mulder, taking in his slack posture and the dark, distant look in 
his eyes.  His mood had definitely changed since their lunch 
earlier.  They sat in silence for a moment.  Finally, she fixed her 
gaze on him, leaning forward tentatively.

"Mulder."  

Her voice was low and rough, catching at the end of his name.  
Perhaps she had been wrong in coming.  Perhaps he wouldn't want to 
talk, just as he'd shut her out years ago.  He turned his eyes 
toward her, the blackness burning into hers, causing her to look 
away.

When he finally spoke, his voice was even but threaded with anger.  
"You LEFT me."

She swallowed, looking down at her hands.  "You left me first."  She 
raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

Mulder's breathing was becoming more labored and his chest rose and 
fell in a steady rhythm.  "I didn't.  I took some time to get my 
head clear."  His teeth were clenched as he spat out, "you left me, 
Scully.  You quit your job and moved to San Diego without a word."

Tightness was building in the back of her throat but she forced her 
voice to remain calm.  "You shut me out, Mulder.  You wouldn't speak 
to me or see me, or return any of my calls.  And then I learned that 
you ran off without telling me.  I tried everything I could think of 
and I couldn't find you.  You didn't want me to find you."

Mulder sprang to his feet and began pacing around the room.  "You 
didn't waste any time getting the hell out of here!  Why San Diego, 
Scully?  Was it the farthest place away from me that you could think 
of without leaving the country?"

She closed her eyes and took a quick breath, her emotions gaining 
control over her will.  Swallowing to remove the lump forming in her 
throat, she sat in silence.  Finally she looked up at him, her eyes 
glistening with unshed tears.

Mulder's voice softened in volume, but there was still anger in it.  
"How could you think that I'd walk away from you, Scully?  You knew 
me better than that – better than I knew myself.  I could never 
leave you."  His last sentence was spoken as an accusation.

She looked up at him, her tears now spilling down her cheeks.  Her 
voice trembled as she spoke and she paused frequently to try to gain 
control.  "You told me the last time that we saw each other before 
you disappeared that you felt your life had no purpose, that there 
was nothing left for you once the X-Files were closed permanently.  
I wanted to talk about it but you refused.  All those times before 
that you left without telling me, wondering if you were hurt, if you 
were still alive, if I would be able to find you in time -" she 
stopped, drawing a ragged breath.  "I waited for you, just like I 
always did, but it hurt so much when you shut me out, Mulder.  I 
couldn't reach you and after a while I knew that you didn’t want me 
to.  I understood that our lives had changed.  It wasn't just about 
the work - you didn't want any part of ME anymore."

Facing away from her, his shoulders hunched and he hung his head.  
Tears stung his eyes, his words barely above a whisper.  "I didn't 
WANT you?  You were everything to me, Scully.  Yes, you were a part 
of the work, and I had to come to terms with that, separate it all 
out in my head.  I couldn't explain it at the time, and I couldn't 
talk about it until I understood it myself.  But without you, 
everything that I've learned, that WE'VE learned, everything we 
fought for - it all means nothing.  I am nothing."

A small squeak left Scully's throat at his declaration, but neither 
said anything for a long while, the only sound was their labored 
breathing, heavy with emotion.  

When she felt she was able to speak without breaking she replied, 
"After I moved, I didn't give up on you, Mulder.  For a long time I 
waited, hoping that you would come to me and tell me that I was 
wrong, that you still needed me.  I didn't make my location a secret 
to anyone.  Since I never heard from you, I was sure that I'd done 
the right thing.  For the both of us."

He turned to look at her and their eyes met, his voice softening but 
the intensity remaining.  "Do you know what I've lived with everyday 
for the last two years?  I wake up with you inside of my head every 
day and I fall asleep with you inside of my head every night."  He 
walked toward her, closing the distance between them until he was 
standing over her.  "You're always there, Scully.  And when your 
voice isn't telling me how illogical or irrational I'm being, I 
smell you on my skin.  I can feel your touch."  

She closed her eyes from his gaze and lowered her head.  Before she 
knew it, he was pulling her up on her feet.  He cradled her face 
between his large hands, his eyes black and intense as he silently 
demanded her full attention.

"I can still taste you on my lips, Scully.  Two years, and I still 
remember how you taste."

She stared back into his eyes, refusing to be the first one to look 
away.  An anguished noise came from somewhere within him and he 
covered her mouth with his own, his tongue pressing against her lips 
demanding entrance.  She opened her mouth to him reflexively, and 
his tongue swirled across hers, stroking and probing until a whimper 
rose up in her throat and she slid her arms around his neck molding 
herself into him, matching his passion with equal intensity.

He pulled her closer and they kissed hungrily as their passion grew, 
hands roaming and fingers touching familiar flesh that had gone too
long without recognition.

As his mouth continued to explore hers, Mulder drew the skirt of 
Scully's dress up in his hands, holding the bunched up fabric 
against her waist with one hand.  Breaking their kiss, he pressed 
her down into the chair and dropped to his knees.  His free hand 
slid behind her right knee, lifting her leg and placing it over his
shoulder.  Pushing aside the fabric of her panties, he plunged his 
tongue into her humid folds with a moan.  A humming noise came from 
the back of his throat as he traced circles across her and nipped at 
her sensitive bundle of nerves, burying his face into her as deep as 
he could.

"So good, Scully," he whispered.  "So, so good."

Drugged with passion, she was unable to move and her head rolled 
back against the cushion as she felt him thrust two fingers inside 
of her, stroking and building a steady rhythm while he devoured her 
with his mouth.  The pressure rose within and she wove her fingers 
through his hair and closed her eyes, softly whispering his name.

At the sound of her voice he suddenly sat back as if slapped, 
withdrew his fingers and stumbled a few steps away from her as the 
skirt of her dress fell back down around her calves, covering all 
evidence of what had just transpired.

There was a veil over his eyes and he gasped for air, wiping his 
mouth dry with the back of his hand.  She watched him, trying to 
control her own rapid breathing, silently asking him for an 
explanation.  

He closed his eyes against hers and said flatly, "I'm sorry."

A tense moment passed and an uncontrollable rage rose up within her.  

"You son of a bitch!"

Descending upon him, she pounded her fists against his chest.  He 
stood defenseless and admittedly deserving, his arms at his sides as 
she pummeled him, all of her pain and sorrow and regret from the 
past two years telegraphed into him with each strike against his 
body.  Her fury lasted only seconds and she burst into tears, 
covering her eyes with one hand and her body shaking from the force 
of her anguish.  

Mulder placed a hand softly on her lower back and raised the other 
to stroke her hair, but she quickly pulled away, a look of defiance 
in her eyes.  Grabbing her purse, she walked out of the apartment 
without looking back, her shoulders squared and her hair flying back 
like flames behind her.

He stood motionless as if in a daze, then dropped to his hands and 
knees on the floor.   Grief overcame him and lowering his face down 
against the wood, he squeezed his eyes shut and his lips drew back 
against his clenched teeth as a desperate, silent wail rose up in 
his throat.  He sobbed, falling over on his side and drawing his 
knees up to his chest, his body convulsing and his tears running 
freely down his cheeks.

X~X~X~X~X

Mulder thought he must have fallen asleep on the floor, because the 
apartment was black when he opened his eyes.  There was a tightening 
across his chest as he tried to sit up and he fell back against the 
floor, recalling that Scully had beat him up - he was probably going 
to have some impressive bruises.  

He stared up the ceiling, remembering the events of the last few 
hours.  The taste of her, hearing her say his name again in that 
soft intimate way like only she could had caused a short circuit in 
his brain, and he regretted the way he had pulled away from her 
almost immediately after he'd done it.  But he was unable to stop 
his actions, both in his sexual advances and his subsequent retreat.  
He had wanted to lose himself in her like it was their first time, 
as if the last two years never happened, as if it were their first 
night together as lovers.  Best friends crossing over the last 
unknown path of intimacy.  

He had dreamed of nothing more than holding her in his arms again, 
kissing her sweet lips and tasting anew every inch of her body and 
then talking in bedroom soft voices for hours about anything that 
came to mind, reveling in the brilliance of her mind and her soul.  
Consumed by his own pain and fear, he had pushed away his only 
constant - the only thing in his life that was good and full of 
promise.

Beautiful Scully - she was always his champion, always standing by 
him with fierce loyalty.  He had never seen her full-blown fury 
directed at him like it was today.  He'd seen glimpses of anger over 
the years, usually as a result of his running off on his own without 
telling her, but never anything equal to this.  He realized at that 
how deeply he had wounded her with his selfish introspection, 
leaving without a word, no telltale trail of bread crumbs so that 
she could reach him.

She had loved him as no one had ever or ever would love him and it 
wasn't enough that he ripped out her heart two years ago.  She sat 
in this very room today with her heart in her hands and he reopened 
the wound, determined to make her feel all of his loss.

He felt like such a shit.

She would never be rid of him.  He knew that he was just as much a 
part of her as she was a part of him.  His mind was a whirl of 
memories, of times they shared and obstacles they'd overcome; 
everything that was warm and right and just and all things Scully, 
all thoughts leading him to the ultimate conclusion.  He had to have 
another chance - his resolve became iron and he was going to do 
whatever it would take to get her back, to get what they had back. 

This time he would make damn sure he didn't fuck it up.

X~X~X~X~X

Greg and Dana lay naked in their hotel room bed, the room in 
complete darkness except for the glow of the alarm clock on the 
nightstand.  Dana's arm and leg were draped over him, her face 
resting on his chest, and he absently traced circles on her arms 
with the pads of his fingers as he listened to her deep breathing.

She had arrived at the hotel earlier than he had expected that 
evening, her face flushed.  She seemed on edge and initiated 
lovemaking with a fury and intensity that she had never shown him 
before.  Afterwards, she was quiet and introspective all through 
dinner except for her periodic attempts to convince him that they 
should cut their trip short early and leave on the first plane to 
San Diego in the morning.

He didn't want to leave yet as he was having a good time and had 
already learned so much about her that she hadn't been willing to 
share before now - something that he attributed to their presence in 
DC.  When they returned to the hotel he wanted to talk, to really 
get her to open up.  But she wanted to make love again, and she 
approached it with the same urgency as before.  Silent, except for 
the soft pants of her breath, she worked her body into a frenzied 
sweat until she finally collapsed on top of him from exhaustion.  
She'd slid off of him, and without a word, quickly fell off into a 
deep slumber, her head against his chest.

He was in love with her, but he knew that this hadn't been an act of 
love.  She had called it that, and he believed that what he was 
doing was making love to her, but he knew it wasn't love in her 
eyes.

She fucked him.

It was such a coarse way to say it and it didn't fit Dana at all - 
at least the Dana he thought he knew.  She used his body as if she 
were exorcising a demon within, and then turned it into a sleeping 
pill so that she wouldn't have to talk about it.  As an ordinary 
horny guy with the same urges as everybody else he could appreciate 
her actions for what they were, but he had been a little frightened 
of her intensity because it was so out of character and he didn't 
know why she was behaving that way.

He had known all along that she didn't love him the way that he 
loved her, but he believed that she truly wanted to.  Some people 
take more time than others falling in love.  It was his hope that 
this trip might bring them closer, her reluctance to share things 
with him receding until he knew everything about her.  She might 
learn to trust him and maybe some of what he felt for her would come 
into her heart.

He recalled his conversation with Fox about the guy from her past.  
Fox had called him 'the worst kind of selfish bastard you could 
imagine.'  "What kind of man could destroy you so completely, Dana?" 
he whispered into her hair.

Greg looked down at the woman in his arms, her small, beautiful face 
as innocent as a child in slumber.  He should be sleeping as well - 
he'd get his ass kicked on the basketball court in the morning if he 
wasn't rested, and Fox looked like a formidable opponent.  He liked 
the guy, but when it came to things that really mattered to him, in 
this case, basketball, his competitive nature came out and he wasn't
used to coming in second.

X~X~X~X~X

Dana awoke to the warmth of sunlight on her face.  She was alone in 
the bed and she sat up, calling out to Greg, her eyes smarting from 
the brightness of the sunlight.  

He wasn't in the room.

A guilty sense of relief washed over her and she laid back down, 
thankful for the solitude.  There was a note propped up in front of 
the alarm clock on the bedside table.  Picking up the note, she 
noticed the time was already 9:30 a.m.  The note read, "Dana - 
Shooting hoops with Fox at YMCA, 9:00. Come when you can.  Love, 
Greg."

She closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow breath.  It was 
morning now and she couldn't continue to avoid the situation – she 
would have to deal with it.  She was disappointed in herself for the 
way she behaved the day before, especially the way that she had 
treated Greg.  She didn't like to feel out of control and she didn't 
want him of all people to see her that way.
  
And Mulder.

She had hurt him, too.  First of all, she'd done the one thing that 
she knew would cripple him - she had left him.  She let him down – 
had let THEM down by not trusting in him, not waiting to hear from 
him.  It was unbelievable that through everything, as much as they 
had trusted and shared and given to each other that it would end up 
like this.

They once were so close, the best of friends.  It still hurt 
thinking about the way he had just closed off to her, feeling like 
she'd lost him forever.  She knew why now, but at the time she 
didn't understand.  If they had simply remained friends, if they 
hadn't become lovers, they might have been able to work through 
anything.  They had worked through so many issues together as 
friends.  By abstaining from sharing themselves bodily they had kept 
their ability to be objective and had not become so quickly hurt by 
each other's actions.  Once they became lovers and admitted their 
feelings to one another, it was much more difficult.

Still, there was no way they could have avoided physical intimacy - 
the pull between them had become too much to fight after all of the 
years they spent together, side by side, desires hidden just below 
the surface.  In her memory she had divided their time together into 
two distinct parts: before they had become lovers, and after they 
had become lovers.

'Before' they worked well together and their friendship was good.  
But the months that followed 'after' were incredible.  Phenomenal.
Ethereal.  Sacred.  There was no word deep enough or broad enough to 
describe it.  They gave up themselves completely to each other and 
the result was a shared sense of oneness that was unparalleled - but 
eventually became their downfall.  They each had lost their ability 
to think past their emotions where other was concerned.

Scully groaned, rolling over on to her stomach and burying her face 
in the pillow, the unwanted lump returning to her throat and the 
sting of tears in her eyes.  She knew that she had seen life as few 
people had ever seen it.  She had known and experienced a love that 
was rare to the extreme.  She had felt the edges of death and 
resurrection, the sacred and the profane, passion and joy...

And it was all over.

It made her angry.  Angry with Mulder, angry with herself, angry 
with God.  Loving Mulder wasn't a gift - it was cruel.  Let's see 
how much more pain we can pile on Dana and watch her try to crawl 
out from under it.  She had to live the rest of her life knowing 
what it felt like to be at the center of someone's universe, to have 
that person as the center of her own universe, and never be able to 
come close to the sun again.  

There was no comfort in knowing that she had loved once, and loved 
well.  'Isn't that a line from a novel?' her higher brain asked.  
With that thought she groaned at her dramatic ranting and dragged 
her weary self out of bed, knowing she had no choice but to pull 
herself together and face the rest of her life head-on.

X~X~X~X~X

Greg and Mulder were engaged in an intense game of one-on-one when 
Dana arrived at the YMCA forty minutes later.  Both men glistened 
with a slick sheen of sweat and were so intently focused on their 
competition that they didn't notice the tiny redhead standing along 
the sideline near a group of tall players who were observing the two 
men with keen interest.

From the look of it, Mulder and Greg were evenly matched.  The score 
was very close, the lead changing from one to the other in a matter 
of seconds as each shot for the basket.  The tension was high enough 
to make Scully uncomfortable, compounded by the comments of some of 
the other onlookers who apparently were acquainted with Mulder. 

"Home boy Fox is one crazy motherfucker!"

"Shit!  Did you see that shot? God DAMN!"

Greg was gorgeous.  He was hardness and masculinity, beautifully cut 
and tan skin that shone like satin.  

But Mulder - Mulder was poetry in motion.  Graceful and lean, his 
well-defined, naturally athletic body moved fluidly around Greg like 
a panther, focused and sure, constantly aware of his surroundings.  
She had always thought Mulder one of the most exquisitely handsome 
men she'd ever known.

He was the first to see her, stopping just after scoring a basket to 
catch his breath, bending at the waist and hands resting on his 
knees.  He nodded to her slightly in acknowledgement, his dark hair 
falling in wet strands across his forehead and beads of sweat 
dripping off of his nose.  Despite her iron resolve Scully's body 
betrayed her, her heart pounding and a flush tinting her face as she 
nodded back at him.

What was worse was that he always knew.

His eyes still on her, he stripped off his wet T-shirt, noting the 
graze of her eyes over his chest and the involuntary sweep of her 
tongue over her lips - a motion so small, but still powerful enough 
to send a surge of blood directly to his groin.

The change in pace snapped Greg out of his competition blindness and 
he noticed his girlfriend standing on the sidelines, a large grin 
spreading across his handsome face.

"Hey, babe!" he called, jogging over to give her a quick kiss of 
acknowledgement, puffed up from endorphins and the smell of sweat 
and competition. 

She forced a smile in response, and asked, "How's it going?"

Glancing back at Mulder, she could see him watching her with an 
unmasked leer as he slowly toweled off the washboard of his abdomen 
with the discarded T-shirt.

Greg was oblivious to the tension between his girlfriend and her ex-
partner.  "Great!  You should have warned me about your ex-partner.  
He's giving me one hell of a workout."

Dana was more than aware of the competitive nature of both men.  She 
also knew that in a contest of wills, Mulder would win hands down.  
The consequences be damned.  

"Just don't overdo it, alright?  I don't want you getting another 
sprained ankle, or worse, just because of a friendly basketball 
game."

He flashed her another bright smile at her concern.  "I won't, I
promise."  He gave her another kiss and jogged back over to Mulder.  

Without a T-shirt, Greg could see the small, puckered round scar 
just below Mulder's right shoulder.  Stopping directly in front of 
him, Greg's mouth fell open and the game was temporarily forgotten.  

"Hey man, is that what I THINK it is?"

"All in the line of duty."  Mulder quipped with a sarcastic grin, 
looking back at Scully.

"Christ!  How'd it happen?  Were you in a shootout?"

"Not exactly.  My partner felt it was necessary to protect me from 
myself."  Throughout the exchange, Mulder's eyes never left 
Scully's.  He didn't fail to notice that she forced herself to focus 
on his face, purposely avoiding the rest of him.

Greg spun around and looked at her with surprise.  "DANA shot you?"

Mulder tossed the basketball back and forth between his hands.  
"Good thing she was a good shot.  Although she should have aimed a 
few inches lower and saved herself a lifetime of heartache from the 
world's sorriest, most selfish son-of-a-bitch.  Your ball."  He 
tossed the ball to Greg, who caught it, a look of confusion on his 
face.

Greg began to dribble the ball then stopped, a slow realization 
coming over him as Mulder's words sank in.  He looked at Mulder, who 
was staring at Dana, and then to Dana, who looked very unsettled.  
He finally noticed the way Mulder's eyes held her with unmistakable 
desire and a familiarity that far surpassed friendship, bordering 
more on ownership.

Ownership of HIS girlfriend.

Greg's eyes narrowed, his teeth baring.  "YOU?"  He growled at 
Mulder, all of his contempt, anger and jealousy flowing out in one 
single word.

Mulder smirked.  "I guess she didn't tell you about our meeting 
after lunch yesterday afternoon."  He looked at Scully.  "What 
happened to the truth, Scully?  You used to be so committed to the 
truth."

As Mulder spoke, Greg became enraged.  The past was the past, and 
Dana was with him now.  In one swift movement the basketball left 
his hands and connected squarely with Mulder's face, knocking him to 
the ground.  Greg descended upon him, straddling his hips and 
pounding a fist into Mulder's face while the other hand pinned his 
opponent's upper torso to the ground.  

Mulder punched back and Dana yelled, running over and trying to pull 
Greg off of Mulder.  A couple of the onlookers stepped in to help, 
but not before Greg had done notable damage to Mulder's face and 
Mulder had responded with a sound punch to Greg's jaw.

One of Mulder's eyes was swollen shut and blood was running from his 
nose.  Stumbling to his feet, he looked at Greg and then at Scully 
without apology, his eyes dark and dangerous.  Greg lunged at him 
again, but was held back by the two men who had broke up the fight.

Greg wasn't bleeding but Scully was at Mulder's side, one hand on 
his arm and the other holding up his chin as she examined his 
already swelling nose.  Tears were welling in her eyes, the 
unmistakable look of love and concern displayed as she looked up at 
him out of instinct and old habit rather than of conscious decision.

"Oh Mulder" she murmured in admonishment, her fingers lightly 
brushing across his swollen eyelid and down his cheek.

"I think he broke my nose, Scully" was the soft reply, the sound 
more of a boy than of a man.

Neither one noticed that Greg had witnessed their exchange, fiercely 
shrugged off his attendants and walked out. 

X~X~X~X~X

Greg had already packed his belongings and was zipping up his bag as 
Scully entered their hotel room.  She approached him hesitantly, 
unsure of what his reaction would be.  After chewing out Mulder at 
the Y, she'd spend some time alone walking along the Tidan Basin, 
thinking.  

Greg glanced up at her, then turned his attention back to his bag.

She sighed.  "Greg, I'm sorry.  I should have told you after we ran 
into him in the airport."

"Yes, you should have.  You should have told me about him a long 
time ago.  But..." he adjusted the strap, "I shouldn't have pushed 
for this weekend with you.  You weren't ready to open up to me and I 
wanted more than you were prepared to give."  He chuffed at his 20-
20 hindsight.  "You tried to tell me last night that you wanted to 
leave and I wouldn't listen to you."

She looked at him, knowing her behavior was unforgivable.  In her 
estimation, she didn't deserve his understanding.  What she had done 
was wrong and she would own up to it.

"This isn't your fault."

Greg shook his head.  "I completely lost it.  I attacked him.  Jesus 
Christ!  He's an FBI agent!  He could have killed me."  He looked 
sideways at her.  "Is he alright?"

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "His nose isn't 
broken but it'll be swollen for a day or two.  He's been through 
worse."

"He has every right to press charges against me.  There are half a 
dozen witnesses that will back him up, including you."

"Greg, he's not going to press charges against you.  Besides, he 
provoked you.  He knew exactly what he was doing."

"I just -" Greg stopped as his voice wavered and he and took a deep 
breath, then turned to face her.  "The way you two looked at each 
other, the way you were last night after seeing him - that wasn't me 
in this bed, it was him."

She closed her eyes for a moment, chastising herself once again.  
Then she looked back up at him, her regret evident in her eyes.  
"Greg, whatever you may think, it is over between Mulder and I.  He 
is a part of my past.  I have a new life now."

Greg laughed softly, a sad smile settling on his lips.  "I love you, 
Dana.  But you are fooling yourself if you don't realize that no 
matter where you go or who you're with, it's not over between you 
and Fox...or Mulder, whatever.  You have to deal with it."  He 
picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.  "I'm the pinch 
hitter here, not a player.  I can't compete.  I won't compete if the 
game is already decided."

She understood that she'd damaged her relationship with Greg.  Until 
that moment, she'd thought that perhaps it was reparable.  But now 
she knew that he didn't want her conditionally, that it wasn't fair 
to him or anyone else as long as she still had feelings for Mulder.

"You deserve so much more, Greg.  Someone who will love you as much 
as you love her."

"I wish that could be you."  He ducked his head, fighting back his 
emotions, then looked back up at her, his eyes bloodshot but dry.  
"You have to figure out what you want Dana."  He took a few steps 
toward the door, then paused, and turned slightly.  "Maybe..." he 
shook his head, not finishing the train of thought.  "Tell him I'm 
sorry."

She didn't respond, and tears slid down her cheeks as she silently 
stared at the floor in contemplation.

Greg slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.

X~X~X~X~X

Dana checked out of the hotel, choosing to spend one more night with 
her mother before returning to San Diego.  She already missed Greg.  
It was going to be hard to revert back to being single but she knew 
most of what he had said was true.  No one else will ever compare 
with the deep feelings she felt for Mulder, so in the future, it was 
better for everyone that she not get involved.  It wasn't too 
foreign of a notion - she had spent more years of her adult life 
alone than she had with another person.  She still had her work and 
her family.

Margaret listened supportively as Dana gave her a condensed version 
of the events that had transpired and Greg's return to San Diego.  A 
mother might not approve of her child's behavior, but she doesn't 
judge.  Dana was hard enough on herself that she didn't need her 
mother to point out her mistakes.

They shared a quiet dinner at home together, content in each other's 
company, then retreated to the porch to bask in the warmth of the 
Indian Summer evening.  They sat in comfortable silence, sipping 
iced tea and listening to the sounds of crickets and fireflies and 
the creak of the porch swing gently rocking back and forth.

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," Margaret said wistfully.  
"I miss you so."

Dana looked at her mother regretfully.  "I know.  I miss you too, 
Mom."  She took her mother's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Margaret smiled and fell back into the silent cadence they shared 
before.  After a long while, she spoke again, her voice soft and 
concerned."

"Dana, are you alright?"

Scully knew what her mother meant.  It was a question she had been 
asking herself since she left the hotel.  Despite all of the 
emotional upheaval of the past three days she had a vague feeling of 
resolution with Mulder that she hadn't had before.  They had talked 
a little.  She felt a lot of pain over her breakup with Greg as 
well, but she knew from experience that she would be able to live 
through it.  If she lived through Mulder, she could live through 
this.

"Yes.  Yes, Mom, I am going to be okay," she replied with 
conviction.  "You don't have to worry about me anymore."

Her mother smiled, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.  After a 
moment, she stood and said, "I think I'll turn in.  Are you coming?"

"I'd like to stay out here just a little longer.  It's so peaceful."

Margaret reached over to an Adirondack chair nestled in the corner 
of the porch and picked up a cotton throw, placing it around her 
daughter's shoulders.  "I'll see you in the morning, honey."

"'Nite Mom."  She smiled gratefully up at her mother, and the smile 
was returned with love.

Scully tucked one bare foot up under her and turned, placing her arm 
along the back of the swing.  Slowly she rocked, lightly pushing 
against the ground with her toe.  She mourned for her past, for her 
estranged lovers, for her sister, for her daughter, for her lost 
sense of purpose.  The night grew cooler as time stretched on and 
she pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders, contemplating the 
direction her life should take once she returned to San Diego.

Much later, as she was considering whether or not she wanted to end 
her quiet reverie and retreat into the warmth of the house, 
headlights washed over her as a car pulled into the driveway.  She 
watched with little surprise as Mulder got out of the car and 
crossed the lawn in long steps, stopping just in front of the porch.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she replied, and slid out the foot underneath her, scooting 
over in a silent invitation for him to join her in the swing.  He 
accepted, sitting down and tucking his hands into the pockets of his 
black leather jacket. 

She regarded him silently in the moonlight as he looked out into the 
night, not meeting her gaze.

"How's your nose?"

He touched the tip of it tenderly with his finger.  "Sore.  Nothing 
close to what I deserve, though."  He looked over at her 
tentatively.

Her eyebrow was raised in an all too familiar expression but she 
didn't reply.  She'd already yelled at him earlier.  He took her 
silence as acceptance and moved ahead.

"I want to apologize to you and to Greg both for my behavior.  It 
was unconscionable.  I thought maybe I'd give him the chance to 
finish the job."

She smiled slightly at his truth-tinged humor.  "Greg's gone back to 
San Diego, but you probably already knew that.  He said to tell you 
HE was sorry."

Mulder took a deep breath and let it out.  "Yeah.  God, I am REALLY 
sorry, Scully.  For all of it."

She was quiet for a moment.  "It was unconscionable what you did 
today, Mulder.  But I guess I should thank you for making me realize 
how my behavior was hurting Greg far worse than the punch you threw 
him.  This whole situation was my fault and wouldn't have happened 
if it weren't for my own lack of honesty."  She was leaning forward 
in the swing, her hands on the edge of the seat and her chin tucked 
down against her chest.

Mulder studied her face.  She was doing it again, just like she 
always had.  She had always been too hard on herself, and once again 
she was absolving him and taking the blame for his selfish actions.  
He felt the self-loathing rise up inside of him.  

"Scully, this is not your fault.  It is due to my self-centered 
kingdom of pain and regret and my own need to lash out and hurt you 
and your boyfriend without regard to the outcome or the 
consequences.  It's MY fault, Scully.  Mine."

Scully recognized his familiar pattern of self-blame and looked up, 
their eyes meeting.

"WE'RE to blame, Mulder.  Both of us."

He looked at her, realizing that she meant that on so many levels.  
Nodding, he looked away.  "So, is your mom home?"

"She's already gone to bed."

Mulder shivered slightly, reminding her how cool it gets in the 
evening compared to the mild Southern California weather.  "So what 
are you doing out here in the night air - offering yourself as a 
sacrifice to the mosquitoes?"

Scully stopped the motion of the swing and straightened her back.  
"Would you like to go inside?"

He stood and she followed suit, moving inside.  Always polite, 
Scully asked if he would like anything to drink as she took his 
jacket and laid it over the chair near the door.

"Do you have any wine?" Mulder replied with his back to her, 
crouching down next to the fireplace to light a fire to take the 
evening chill out of the room.

"Um, yeah, I think we do."  She disappeared into the kitchen and 
returned with a bottle, a corkscrew and two wineglasses.  They sat 
on opposite ends of the sofa, turned toward each other so that the 
knees of their inside legs rested on the cushions, leaving enough 
space between them so they wouldn't be touching.  They both watched 
the fire in silence.

Scully finally spoke.  "How is Skinner these days, Mulder?  I 
haven't spoken to him in over six months."

"He's a pain in the ass, as always."  Mulder grinned at her.  "He 
still stands up for me when I push too many of the wrong people's 
buttons.  I don't know what I would have done without his support 
over the last couple of years."

She smiled, but her eyes were serious.  "Have they assigned you a 
new partner?"

The muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, then relaxed.  
"No, they can't find anyone who would put up with me."

Scully turned her head and looked into the fire, her eyes shining 
with the start of tears.  She blinked a couple of times to dry them 
as Mulder studied her profile, back lit by the glow from the hearth.  
Her skin had a tint of pink and her hair looked like an extension of 
the flames as it glowed around her face.  

He caught his breath involuntarily.  "I miss us, Scully."

Scully closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, her chest 
rising and falling to the crackling of the fire.  He hadn't said 'I 
miss you,' which would have been so much easier to respond to.  He 
said 'I miss us,' meaning everything they experienced and lived 
through and were and had been to each other.  Looking up at him, her 
painfully sad eyes were once again bright with tears.

"So do I, Mulder."  She sniffed back a sob.  "So do I."

He reached over and squeezed her knee in comfort.  "It was Emily, 
wasn't it?  That's why you went to San Diego...to be close to her?"

She swallowed back another sob and nodded.  "I know it's not really 
her body buried there.  Even though she was my child, I didn't even 
really know her.  But I feel closer to her there, just the same."

He took a sip of wine and looked at the fire.  "I came to San Diego 
about three months after you left.  I was going to beg you to come 
back to work, back to me.  I followed you around for a day, watching 
you move around your apartment, walk on the beach, meet your friends 
for happy hour."  Turning his face toward hers, he gave her a sad 
smile.  "You laughed and you looked so happy.  I couldn't bring 
myself to get out of the car and face you so I came back."

Her voice cracked as she replied, "I wish you had."

Mulder's eyes glistened with moisture.  "I became more angry as I 
thought about it.  Instead of being happy for you, I cursed you for 
leaving, for being happy without me.  I can't forgive myself for the 
things I did and said, Scully, but I hope that you can understand 
why I was so angry with you when you came to me yesterday."

Scully nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap.  Mulder leaned 
over, sliding his hand up to take one of hers.  She looked up at 
him, their eyes holding and expressing their apologies and regrets.  
Slowly they both sat up and leaned forward, reaching their arms 
around each other in a warm embrace.

They held each other for a long time, silent tears running down 
their cheeks.  Finally, Mulder turned his face and whispered in her 
ear, "Stay.  Stay with me, Scully." 

She buried her face in the crook of his neck.  "Mulder, it's not 
that simple..." her response dying against his chest.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around her, his 
voice more urgent.  "I need you."

Scully pulled back to look at him, her eyes full of sorrow.  She saw 
the need in his eyes and she looked down, starting to move away 
until his hands came up and cupped her face.  He knew she still 
responded to him physically, so he pinned her with his gaze until he 
saw the desire flicker in her eyes.  Leaning down, he pressed his 
lips against hers in a gentle but passionate kiss, breaking the 
contact for a moment, then kissing her again until her lips 
responded to his renewed effort.  He slipped one hand through her 
hair and held the back of her head to deepen the kiss as his other 
hand reached around and pulled her body tightly against his.

"I love you," he whispered against her mouth, kissing her again, 
whispering once more and kissing her once again.  She responded by 
placing her hands at the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to 
her and whispering her love back to him, both of them whispering and 
kissing as Mulder lay her back on the sofa, covering her with his 
body.

They touched each other in enflaming strokes and he slowly 
unbuttoned her blouse.  She pulled his T-shirt up over his head, 
their kisses becoming harder and more demanding.  As he moved down 
to unfasten the button of her jeans, she placed her hand on his arm.

"My mother is upstairs," she whispered.

Planting open-mouthed kisses along her face and chest, he moved his 
hand back down between them and started on her zipper.  He had to 
have her.  Now.  

"We'll be quiet."  

She needed him, too.  She lifted her hips as he dragged her jeans 
and underwear over her hips and down her legs, then she kicked them 
off with her feet.  She unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them over his 
hips along with his boxers.  He shoved and squirmed them down to his 
ankles but stopped with a sharp intake of air as she reached out and 
stroked the length of him.  After several firm strokes he felt her 
position him against her warm, wet opening and push against him.  He 
couldn't help but thrust his hips, plunging inside of her wetness 
and filling her in one swift motion.

They both went still and closed their eyes with the power of their 
joining, the only sound the sound of Scully's deep intake of breath 
at the initial contact.  

He gave her a few moments then began to move within her and she 
opened her eyes to meet his gaze.  Their eyes locked and she wrapped 
her legs around his waist, urging him deeper.  They moved against 
each other slowly at first, whispering their love between soft 
kisses and reading the love and pleasure in each other's eyes.  The 
pleasure grew and she moved her hands down to cup his bottom, urging 
him to move faster and deeper until he was pounding into her, the 
sound of their bodies coming together creating the rhythm to the 
popping and hissing of the fire.  Her fingers dug into his buttocks 
and she bit her lip, silencing her gasp as she came, her muscles 
clenching around him in waves.  He was right behind her, burying his 
face into her hair as he spilled into her, re-claiming her as his 
own.  His Scully.

X~X~X~X~X

For a long time they lay silently on the sofa, their lower bodies 
still joined.  His cheek resting against her temple, both watched 
the remaining embers of the fire, neither wanting to break the spell 
of the moment.  

Mulder closed his eyes, sighed in resignation brought on by the long 
period of silence, and looked back at the dying fire.  He knew she 
was still going to leave in the morning.

"Can I take you to the airport?"

She waited a beat.  "No. I'd rather we said goodbye tonight.  I 
don't think I can get on the plane if you're there."

"That wouldn't be so terrible."

She sighed.  "I have to go back.  I created a life there.  I have 
responsibilities."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump in his throat, 
gathering the strength he needed to get off of her and pull himself 
together.  He grabbed her jeans from the end of the sofa and handed 
them to her as she tentatively stood, testing her legs.  Then he 
disappeared into the bathroom.  

When he returned she had redressed and was poking at the few 
remaining embers in the fireplace.

There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

"Well, I guess I should be going."  He sighed, stopping in front of 
the chair to pull on his jacket.

She rose, dusting off of her hands, and gazed up at him.  They 
looked at each other a moment then he cupped her face in his hand, 
stroking her cheek before bending down and giving her a soft kiss.

"Keep in touch, Scully."  He said, tucking her hair back behind her 
ear.

She nodded, swallowing.  "I will."  They looked at each other a 
moment more, and then he turned and walked out.

X~X~X~X~X

Scully kept her promise, emailing her safe arrival to Mulder as soon 
as she got back to San Diego.  In the weeks that followed they sent 
each other jokes and cartoons through the Internet, calling each 
other to chat late at night, falling into the ease of their long-
time friendship.

She had just finished cleaning up after dinner on a Thursday night 
when her telephone rang.  Looking at her watch, she picked up the 
receiver.

"Hey Scully, it's me," Mulder said on the other end.

She smiled.  "Mulder, it's after midnight there.  Having trouble 
sleeping?"

"You know I don't sleep."

She laughed.  "That's right, and you don't snore, either.  
Seriously, Mulder, is everything okay?"

Mulder was silent and his breathing was a little more labored than 
usual.  "I've got an appointment with Skinner tomorrow.  They're 
assigning a new partner."

It was her turn to be silent.  When she finally spoke, her voice was 
almost a whisper.  "Do you know who?"

"No, Skinner was afraid I'd scare 'em off before it was official."

There was a long silence on both ends before Scully spoke again.  
"When?"

"Eleven a.m.," he laughed nervously.  "I guess this makes it final."

"Mulder..."

"It's okay, Scully.  I won't try the 'Spooky Mulder' scare tactics 
or the 'do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials' line.  
It's just..."

"What?"

He was silent.

"Mulder, what?"

He drew a shaky breath and replied, "No one can ever follow in your 
footsteps, Scully."

"Oh Mulder."  Scully drew a shaky breath as well.  "Please don't try 
to compare me to your new partner.  It isn't fair.  What we had was 
very unusual and the more so because of the kind of cases we were 
investigating.  You can do this.  I believe in you."

More silence.  "Yeah, you're right.  God forbid it's another Alex 
Krycek."

She laughed softly.  "Let's hope there are no more Alex Kryceks 
around."

He was silent once more.  "Hey Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"You still fill out a pants suit better than anybody."

She could hear his smile through the telephone.  "Gee, thanks, 
Mulder.  Do we need to have a talk about sexual harassment in the 
workplace before tomorrow morning?"

He laughed.  "I'll let you get some sleep, it's a work night.  And 
thanks."

"I'm here for you, Mulder, you know that."

"Yeah.  Goodnight, Scully."

"G'nite, Mulder."

X~X~X~X~X

For once in his life, Fox Mulder was on time for his eleven o'clock 
appointment with Assistant Director Skinner.  The AD was in his 
office waiting as Mulder walked in, looking around for the first 
glimpse of his new partner.  Seeing no one, he crossed the room and 
stood silently in front of Skinner's desk.

"Sit down, Agent Mulder," Skinner barked without looking up from the 
file on his desk.

Mulder sat, his face blank.  The bouncing of his knee betrayed his 
apprehension.  Finally, Skinner closed the file and looked at him.  
"Do you know why you're here, Agent Mulder?"

"I thought I was being assigned a new partner, Sir."  His voice 
lilted up at the end of the last word, sounding more like a question 
than a statement.

"Yes, your new partner will be here shortly.  I wanted to speak with 
you before she gets here, off the record."

"She?"  Mulder's eyes widened.  "My new partner is a woman?"  This 
was going to be even more difficult than he thought.  He didn't know 
how well Scully would take that piece of information.

He didn't want to do this.  He should just quit and hop on the next 
flight to San Diego.  He would if Scully would only ask.  It had to 
be her idea, though - she had to want him there with her or it 
wouldn't work.

Skinner leaned back in his seat, assessing his employee and friend.  
"I know this isn't the easiest thing in the world for you, and 
believe me, I've done my best to help you get through the last 
couple of years on your own.  I know how deep your feelings ran for 
your previous partner."  He adjusted his glasses and took a breath.  
"We all miss her and the contribution she made to this organization.  
But its time to move on.  From all of the indications you've given 
me you've come to terms with the past."

Mulder nodded infinitesimally, meeting Skinner's gaze.  He silently 
wondered how supportive Scully would have been on the phone last 
night if she'd known his new partner was a woman.

Skinner continued.  "You and Agent Scully were a good team.  Hell, 
you were a great team, one of the best I've ever had the pleasure to 
work with.  You've proven that you can work effectively with another 
person and I trust that you've learned from your mistakes."

At that moment the phone rang.  "Yeah," Skinner answered.  "Okay, 
send her in."

He looked back at Mulder.  "Just give it your best and try to keep 
an open mind, alright?"

Mulder met his gaze, nodding once again.  The door to the office 
opened and he let out his breath, giving his mind a mental 
cleansing.  Skinner kept his eyes on him as he turned to take in the 
countenance of his new partner.  

His face remained blank except for the parting of his lips in an 
almost inaudible gasp.

She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.   She wore a 
tailored black suit; pants and jacket over a light blue silk blouse,  
with three-inch stacked heels to compensate for her short stature.  
Her hair was cut in a chin-length bob and it was every bit as red as 
Scully's hair.  

She threw an assessing glance up at her new partner momentarily as 
she crossed over to the desk.  Mulder could see a slight bulge in 
the middle of her back underneath her jacket where she had tucked 
her Bureau-issued Sig Sauer.  

Mulder ran his eyes over the rest of her backside appreciatively as 
she held out her hand to the Assistant Director.

"Sir."  She smiled as he took her hand.  Not a Scully smile, but a 
full-out-blinding-white smile with teeth.  

Skinner was forcing himself not to grin back at her and he was 
losing, badly.  Mulder wore an ear-to-ear smile as Skinner replied 
gruffly, "Agent Scully.  Welcome back."

END

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