#obviously Scully was never going to get killed off but something happened and she’s different for it so the show and her character

[swiftzeldas]

been thinkin abt older tv vs newer tv and the concept of High Stakes and how i feel like sometimes there’s this misconception that if you know a character isn’t going to die there are “no stakes” but the thing is a lot of tension in fiction comes not from “are they going to die” but “HOW are they going to get out of this” and “what will the consequences of this be” because sometimes yeah maybe they LIVE but they’re irrevocably changed or they’re badly injured or they have to compromise something else in order to survive! Sometimes that can be a lot more dramatic than a characters death!

Which isn’t to say characters shouldn’t die btw because I actually think more people should die on tv but the risk of death isn’t the ONLY way to generate high tension

[deathsbestgirl]

pine bluff variant

for @edierone

okay listen. i'm going to try really hard but i am 90% sure i love what you hate about it. i honestly don't know what anyone expected when they asked about certain episodes BUT i know my hope was to maybe help people see it a little differently. but i guess we'll see

honestly season five is so rough for mulder & scully, and this definitely happens at a crazy time. after cancer, emily, and cassandra. over & over scully is faced with her abduction and what was done to her, for her role on the x files & in mulder's life. they maintained silence in never again and throughout the cancer arc, and after...mulder isn't ready. he doesn't know how to give scully what she wants (once again saying i don't think their feelings are in question, like ever). but mulder still has lessons to learn.

pbv is another way mulder loves people. he doesn't trust his government, but he would never aid terrorists. especially not ones killing civilians. it's shortly after he was struggling deeply with his beliefs, his guilt. the way he's been played.

he's contacted by the new spartans and he takes the information to skinner. consequently, mulder goes undercover and becomes part of a bigger operation but he's ordered not to tell scully. i think this is something people struggle with, but i just think it makes perfect sense. maybe questionable on skinner's, the fbi's, cia's etc end. but to mulder, he understands this a dangerous and delicate situation. mulder has a history of trying to protect scully. sometimes by keeping information from her, sometimes bodily. and i just can't be mad at him. the moment scully knows, mulder is more at risk and literally thinks he is walking to his death.

from the beginning of the episode, scully is on the task force. she's hypervigilant of the danger mulder is in. the moment she can't see him, she goes running after him, as skinner yells her name trying to stop her. she witnesses mulder letting haley get away. she can't make sense of it, and when she confronts mulder with this information, he doesn't give her any answers. he avoids her. and the truth is, mulder couldn't have done anything differently because he would have cracked. the way scully can't lie to him because he always knows, he can't lie to her either. and he can't tell her.

i love scully doing her own side investigation, following mulder, getting his fake name. "are you the wife?" "not even close." and this is part of the struggle. they're partners, they're not married. but they share a lot more than partners.

as soon as scully gets too close, mysterious men in black run her off the road and take her to skinner & leamus. she quips at the silent men "obviously not the office of information" and i LOVE that about her. if mulder was there, he would have been laughing. giving her that smile & dreamy gaze. anyway. she yells at leamus & skinner, for having these men run her off the road. (she's been there before and it was much more sinister, in irresistible. but it also happened in deep throat, where these other government agents assaulted mulder.)

i always love when scully tells off men, especially above her rank. so many times, she's spoken freely with skinner. telling him he overestimates his power, that closing melissa's investigation is in someone's interest, just not his or hers. and here is just so similar to me, but now they've put her partner in danger -- it's her job to have his back -- by keeping her out of the loop. she forced their hand.

i also think this episode is a huge lesson for skinner. he's been slowly coming to their side since his first episode, tooms. as soon as scully is more included, skinner sees more behind the curtain. he's a military man, and he follows orders. but there's always been something inside of him, especially since overseeing the x files with mulder & scully reporting to him, that wanted to question things. they are his proxy for this and he does try to help them -- but he also won't be able to help them the same if he wasn't assistant director.

scully goes to mulder's apartment to wait for his return, sitting there in the dark. reminiscent of mulder waiting in her apartment in redux. i always love these little moments!! he's injured and afraid and he tells her to get out, but she's calm and she expected this reaction. she won't budge, tells him she knows. she doesn't question why he didn't tell her, because she understands. it doesn't mean she's happy about it, but i think she's much more angry with skinner & leamus, rightfully so. i know mulder isn't one to follow orders exactly, but this is a very different situation. he doesn't have experience with terrorism. that's not his hat, and he needs to follow orders. he may not care about himself the way scully wants him to, but he also isn't trying to die at this point. this isn't one of his reckless missions. this isn't his truth, but he absolutely cares about saving people. he doesn't want anyone else to die at the hands of these terrorists.

scully tells him they killed more people, and he goes to meet with skinner & leamus -- skinner is immediately suspicious when leamus "planned for this" and has files ready. mulder immediately looks to skinner at this too. and when scully calls skinner to talk about how the toxin was distributed, and what it is...she asks skinner to take her off speaker before she'll tell him. i don't think skinner was questioning leamus until scully came on. i just fucking love these three so much. mulder & scully see things that others don't, or maybe what skinner in particular is afraid to question. i think scully & skinner are similar this way, but scully started asking these questions in season one. after mulder posed them to her in the pilot and she didn't have answers. after seeing what mulder really does, seeing how people treat mulder. scully immediately started incorporating these suspicions into her worldview, her work. and now mulder & scully do this for skinner. and much like mulder & scully, skinner does not escape personally unscathed by the conspiracy. they try to kill him, ruin his reputation & destroy his job. but...these are risks he's willing to take. he told mulder in one breath he was responsible for what happened to scully too. skinner has understood the risks since then, and mulder has tried to protect her even more after that. but the thing is, i think scully understood the risks in e.b.e. when she found the bug in the pen, and then mulder found one in his apartment. but truthfully, mulder only got close once scully joined the x files. that's when the true dangers began to unfold. they learned them together. anyway.

mulder walking to his death with no escape, because bremmer outs him to the new spartans with a recording of mulder & scully talking in his apartment. i think about if scully knows this happened, because it would kill her. bremmer letting mulder go, killing the guy who broke mulder's finger instead...and haley too.

scully recognizing mulder by his finger and getting to the money in time. mulder racing back to the bank. immediately scully is trying to ease mulder's panic, telling him the toxin may have come from our government, mulder concluding he was set up. skinner trying to tell them they don't have hard evidence of that (mostly i think to try to calm them down). leamus claiming they're wrong and the money was cleared. and scully LOSES it on this man. "you knew about this all along!" literally screaming in his face. she is fierce. she's been fierce this entire episode, and so has mulder honestly. their shared values are shining through, even as they were divided. but in the end, they were always on the same page. they get to the bottom of it when they're both on the case, and skinner did his best to back them up & protect mulder from the position he was forced into.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 1 thoughts

here we goooooo!

(i started to imagine the sound of a really long and celebratory air horn to commemorate starting s2... but then that mental sound was awful so we ended that pretty quick)

it opens with mulder providing some gentle asmr about aliens and space with a thinly disguised undercurrent of rage in his voice, nice...

he starts talking about a guy named "richard bryan" cutting an alien survey program and that is such a generic name i figured they made it up for the show. and wrote "haha wouldn't it be funny if that was a real guy. and they made this whole episode just to mess with him."

chat. you're never gonna believe this. richard bryan was real and he did in fact cut the alien program. how do you think he felt being name dropped here? neeeeed to get his side of the story

(they also talk about the voyager a bit here which is really cool i won't lie)

now, what has our duo been up to in the time away from the x files? mulder is listening to men talk about lap dances and spitting sunflower seeds... i am not surprised here... all in the name of Research...

but scully is teaching at the academy!!! oh this delighted me to no end!

she starts getting emotional over the concept of a life being contained within tissue and her student is like "you sound spooky" ha. ha. i see what they did there. mulder you're a terrible influence.

they run into each other and she is so happy to see him but he totally blows her off! i was so sad!!!!

AUGH HE HAS HIS SISTER'S PHOTO ON HIS NEW DESK. aughhh man hold on. hold on.

scully is waiting outside watergate (wild they hadn't rebranded at that point tbh) for a shadowy figure and it is mulder! a very cranky and tired looking mulder! he's like we shouldn't be meeting, what do you need me for.... omg rude??

"so what did you want?" "to see if you're alright" (sound of me being sucked into emotional quicksand rapidly)

to answer her question of "are you okay" he begins to ramble about telescopes which is very in character

he says he saw deep throat's funeral but i remain suspicious....

the x files project being shut down has destroyed the man we used to know as mulder! he says that he isn't even sure if what happened to his sister is real anymore! they killed his spirit! "seeing isn't enough... i need solid evidence. i learned that from you" HEY OUCH?????

he's on the ground filled with a deep sadness and she runs her fingers through his hair, at which point i made this note: "y'all i'm only on season 2 i can't do this. i'm gasping so aggressively my mouth is hurting" so safe to say that i will be in for a hell of a ride moving forward... keep me in ur thoughts

baby fox flashback! we see his sister's abduction, which is obviously supposed to be very heavy and traumatic but i was laughing at the skinny little alien throwing her through the window lmaooo i love you 90's cgi <3

PAUSE. we see mulder waking up in a cold sweat from reliving his worst memory. but i see something new in the background: a fish tank in his room. this is a striking development that shall not slip by unnoticed.

and then some guy bursts into his room? and takes him to "the hill" to meet with a politician, who keeps calling him fox? who says they're being listened to? and tells him he needs to go to puerto rico where they're hiding evidence?

(tbh that sequence raised a lot more questions than it answered but i did love that mulder can name the bach piece that is being played because of his college music class lol)

SKINNER MENTIONED!!!! okay i figured out who he is: he's the one with the glasses and the fancy desk and the sidekick who is ALWAYS smoking. glad to have a name to the face. like yeah he was there last season but i had other things to focus on i guess.

cutscene to mulder lounging in a truck bed in puerto rico. niiiice. climbing compilation- niiiiiiice. and busting things open? hell yeah niiiiice

gasp... scully broke into his place (which i think is an entirely new set? or at least from a different angle. but um. okay i'll try and ignore that. but can anyone confirm or deny...?)

anyway she puts her glasses on and slips into password guessing mode and succeeds... i would have thought the FBI would keep tighter passwords on their personal devices than "trustno1" but hey maybe he did that so she could strategically break in!

and some dudes bust in and ask why she's here so she's like ummm i feed the fish lol.....

(and then she refuses to endanger the fish by overfeeding them because that's the type of person she is... and if it provides cover for sneaking out something printed from his computer well that's just a bonus!)

back to puerto rico!! guy in the bathroom reveal!!! mulder cannot speak spanish (smh mulder you were supposed to be the humanities one) but the dude draws a picture of an alien so i guess that proves that art is a universal language <3

scully is taking his paper she printed to some guy to analyze idk her freckles were distracting me again. sorry. NOT! i refuse to apologize. not during june.

(but she goes through some flight records and sees his alias and realizes where he's going and follows)

again, back to puerto rico! our new friend jorge is running for his life into a storm so our patient pal mulder naturally runs after him. into the jungle. and ohhhh jorge is dead now? that was quick.

he does a DIY autopsy on jorge while speaking into the voice recorder- which he addresses as "scully", while sounding like he is going to get sick, kicking things, sweating profusely, and doubting himself. hell yeah baby this is tv! i wanna see that man in situations!

"before i could only trust myself, now i can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me... my life up until this point has been about seeing her again, but what would i do if they really came?"

(now the first part of that is WILD. they've taken you away from me. that phrasing... also, they have successfully gotten the man to doubt his entire existence. sneaky little fbi trick there, making "trust no one" include himself)

BUT the skinny legend aliens return and he is brought back to his sense quickly. he gave it a good go (shot at it a bunch of times) but weirdly the gun didn't fire... probably a good thing. imagine the complications to alien diplomacy that would create!

he wakes up on the floor to scully explaining who she is and asking if he remembers her. he bolts awake, grabs her shoulders, and says that it was the same alien that took his sister. she is already deeply concerned when he then kicks aside a dead body and says we have to analyze it and her face in this moment was delightful. it was very much giving "mulder you're scaring me" just with the eyes

she has to make him realize they can't smuggle a body back to the states OR any of the paperwork really so he just grabs an audio thing that was clearly a better choice. but i want to know how he thought they were gonna get jorge out of there. because the alien hunters were coming to kill him and speed is hard enough for alive people.

"evidence doesn't matter if you're dead!" -dr. dana scully

they crash their way through the jungle, getting shot at and generally destroying what i'm sure is a very important ecosystem but still. they made it out! sorry to the environment </3

mulder gets called into skinner's office (i know that guy's name now!!! i'm so proud) and yelled at for blowing off his case work... and cigarette sidekick is also yelling at him but skinner kicks ciggy man out... is he... an ally? he tells him to go back to work on the job mulder finished like 2 weeks ago...... okay so what i'm seeing here is a boss who is willing to let a man pursue his passions

at the very end we see our duo reunited and it appears the audio he smuggled out of puerto rico had nothing recorded on it!

she tries to encourage him and he seems to be doing better: "i may not have the x files, scully, but i still have my work... (looong pause) and i still have you... (looong pause) and i still have myself" <- okay so looks like we're getting our boy back!!! who cheered?! meee!

he returns to the recording of men discussing strippers and she grasps his hand and then leaves him to his task...

BUT! the minute she leaves, he puts the first audio file back on and it seems to be working now... so why didn't he want her to know???

what is going on!!! i thought "trust no one" would logically mean mulder not trusting himself, but to not trust scully? well, this is madness! what have they done to the man?!

i suppose i will have no choice but to stay tuned and see if his mental state improves a bit with the return of the aliens...

i was really excited to start s2 and i took a lot of notes even for me LMAO some of which i cut out because it would take me forevvvver to capture all of my thoughts in even more detail than i have here but-

as the kids say: we are sooooooo back baby!!!!

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 14: Day Tripping

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder awakes the next morning with his face crammed into his pillow, squeaky leather couch cushions groaning, and for the first time in years he thinks maybe he should get a bed. For his own sake, of course; sofas aren’t meant for long term sleeping, and his joints aren’t getting any younger. It seems prudent to invest in a bed frame, a good mattress, maybe some nice sheets.

And hell, if a certain small redhead happens to come by…

He has a slight crick in his neck, but it fades into the background as his memory replays the night before. Pad Thai, Scully’s big blue eyes, ice cream, soft lips under the cover of branches. Requited affection at last.

He doesn’t know where they’ll go from here, but he’s eager to find out.

He waltzes into the basement office, freshly showered and shaved and wearing his least offensive tie. Scully’s already there, digging through her briefcase.

“Morning, Scully,” he says cheerily, dropping into his chair and searching her face, attempting to make eye contact.

“Morning,” she replies, not looking up.

“I had a, uh, good time last night,” he says in a low voice. “Best night I’ve had in years.”

She nods, cheeks faintly pink. “It was nice,” she says carefully.

Something’s wrong.

“Scully, are you okay?” he asks, leaning in.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replies, exhaling softly. “But I don’t want to talk about this now.”

Disappointment and dread creep into his chest, spreading a chill like midnight frost.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asks, voice suddenly small.

“No,” she clarifies, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m not, I promise. It’s just that things look different in the light of day, and I’m adjusting.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” he says, worrying the end of a pencil between his teeth.

“It’s not meant to,” Scully replies. She sits down opposite him and reaches into their inbox on the desk, hauling out a stack of files. “It’s just the truth.”

They’re quiet for a long moment before she reaches out and places a hand atop his on the desk, squeezing gently before withdrawing it and returning to leafing through files.

She knows exactly how to comfort him, to communicate that things are alright, they’re alright, and that he doesn’t need to worry right now. A paragraph in the touch of a hand. Their eyes meet, and she gives him a tentative smile, causing warmth to bloom in his chest once more.

They sort through potential cases for an hour before Mulder makes a triumphant sound in his throat.

“Got one, Scully,” he announces, handing her a file. “Equine mutilations in Gettysburg. Wanna go check it out?”

Scully opens the folder and immediately frowns. “Not really, but if I say no you’ll go anyway,” she sighs, flipping through the pages. “And then when you get lost in some cave or stuck in the bottom of a well or something and are in need of a rescue, who’ll inform the local authorities? Oh god,” she says in realization. “I’m Lassie.”

“There’s a filthy joke in there somewhere, Scully-”

“-And right now’s not the time to find it,” she cuts in, giving him a patented eyebrow arch.

“Let me know when that time’ll be,” he says in a low tone. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Dead horses, Mulder,” she reminds him, waving a gruesome photo. She sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mulder’s in a great mood. The sun is out, they have a case, and he kissed Dana Scully last night. Twice. He’s actually humming as he drives, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Nothing lights you up quite like mutilated livestock, Mulder,” Scully observes, shaking her head. “What are you hoping to find? More vampires?”

“Civil War ghosts, actually,” he replies, adjusting his mirrors. “Think about it, Scully. Those wounds lacked the consistent placement and patterns we usually see in ritualistic killings, nor did they resemble animal attacks. I’ll bet if we compared the wounds with weapons and ammunition from the era, we’d get some matches.”

“To what end?” Scully asks.

“If I’m right, we’ll see some ghosts. If I’m wrong, we’ll stop some sicko from slaughtering more horses. We can’t lose.”

“Hm,” Scully replies, the brief exhalation steeped in skepticism. He knows the meaning of each little hum and sound of hers at this point.

Well obviously not all of them, he thinks, pulse quickening. But soon.

“So,” he says, cracking a sunflower seed between his teeth, “About last night.”

“It happened, if you were unsure,” she confirms. “It was real. I was there.”

“Funny,” he quips. “No, I know it happened. I just wanted to make sure you were okay that it did. You seemed a little uncomfortable when I came into the office this morning.”

Scully sighs deeply, and Mulder braces himself for a rejection he’d always feared would come.

“Mulder, yesterday I told you that I spent years repressing certain facets of how I feel about you,” she reminds him. “And only yesterday I found out that… that I don’t need to do that anymore. I’m simply adjusting. It’s all very new, and seeing you this morning in our office… you looked the same, everything looked the same, but I felt different. Frankly, it was jarring. It was like watching two planets collide; Mulder the colleague and friend, and Mulder the… the lover,” she says quietly.

Lover. The words gives him a thrill. “Am I your lover, Scully?” he asks softly.

“Well, you did kiss me twice,” she replies matter-of-factly, “So I think you’re on your way.”

“Then that makes you my lover,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re right; this does feel kind of weird.”

“Not a bad weird,” Scully clarifies. “Just… new. I think we just need practice.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Mulder agrees, flashing her a grin.

Scully rolls her eyes, turning to look out the window as though to hide the smile creeping across her face. “Just drive, Mulder.”

They get to East Cavalry Field at half-past noon, just in time to enjoy the sights. Namely, the latest victim, a Clydesdale named Morris. The warm spring sun pours down on them and the fallen animal, illuminating the gore spilling from its lifeless body.

“Well, Mulder,” Scully says flatly, snapping on a pair of gloves, “You sure do know how to show a girl a good time.”

They drive home six and a half hours later, having gathered little new information. A musket ball, borrowed from a local museum, rolls around one of the cupholders.

“Mulder, are you sure they said you could take that thing back to DC?” Scully asks, glancing at the ball. “Why didn’t they put it in some kind of bag or envelope?”

“What are you implying?” Mulder asks, plucking the ball out of the cupholder and awkwardly tucking it into his pants pocket.

She just gives him a look.

“Civil War musket balls aren’t that rare, Scully,” he informs her. “You can buy them off history buffs for a couple bucks.”

“Mulder, my feet hurt, and I’m exhausted. At this point I don’t care anymore.” She doesn’t even bother to stifle her yawn. “And I spent the day poking around dead horses, even though I’m not a veterinarian or a munitions expert. You owe me.”

“Alright, what do you want in reparation?” he asks. I can think of a few things, but we’re not there yet…

“I don’t know. Take me out on a date,” she says flippantly. “We never do anything nice. Preferably something with no mutilated corpses.”

“Damn, that really narrows down the options,” he jokes. “But sure; we’ll go do something nice.”

“Let me know what it is ahead of time,” she adds. “So I know what to wear.”

God, she’s adorable.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, and he can feel his heart pulse.

They’re doing this for real.

[gaycrouton]

the aftermath of linda bowman

msr angst | kitsunegari | 1.7k | ao3

mulder goes into shock while trying to deal with the trauma of seeing “scully” shoot herself and the subsequent realization he almost killed her. touching her and reassuring himself she’s alive is his only comfort, and she’s not going to stop him.

Scully had taken all of one step into the warehouse and she already knew she'd been too late. She could blame the red lights she'd been stopped at on the way over here, but she knew it was her own fault for not believing him sooner.

His screams for Linda Bowman filled her ears, and she felt her blood run cold.

No, no, no, no, no. The mantra in her head repeated with every footfall as she ran in the direction of his voice. Then, Mulder joined in with one drawn out, anguished scream "No!"

She rounded the corner just in time to see him run to Linda Bowman's feet, collapsing to the ground in front of her as he moved his arms in an unnatural way, as if he was holding onto-

Oh my god.

Scully caught Linda Bowman's gaze and the woman had the audacity to smile at her. She slowed her pace, not wanting to alarm Mulder into anything rash, but he heard her approaching nonetheless. While she'd expected him to be obviously under Bowman's control, she was still taken aback by the pure, unadulterated hatred in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you," he stated with so much conviction she was surprised he hadn't done it already.

Her suspicions were confirmed from that alone, to him she looked like Bowman, and he'd just thought something awful had happened to her. She wasn't sure what, but she knew that's what had made Mulder so angry.

"Don't listen to her, Mulder," Scully said firmly. She'd never contemplated before if she had any inflections in her voice that were distinct to her, anything that might convey it was her behind the mirage.

"What?" he seethed, his eyes wild like an animal backed into a corner.

"It's me, you were right about her," she replied calmly. "Linda Bowman is pushing you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he all but spat.

She swallowed thickly, not wanting to make any mistakes. She'd been on the receiving end of Mulder's anger before, but never his hatred. It made her sick. Was this the way he felt when she held a gun to his head at her mother's house? When she'd hurled insecurities and vitriol at him under the false guise of deception?

Behind him she could hear Bowman slowly repeating. "Linda Bowman is in front of you. She killed Scully. You'll never see her again."

Killed . While she knew harm had been caused in some capacity, knowing Mulder thought she was dead and this was his reaction made her want to cry. Scully had seen Mulder mad on many occasions, but this was different. He was a man with nothing left to lose, and she felt her heart ache at the realization that losing her was all it took. In his world, he'd just barely gotten her back from the cancer scare only for her to die on the dingy floor of a warehouse.

"She's lying to you," Bowman stated confidently.

Scully wanted to tell her to shut the hell up, but she knew better than to take her eyes off Mulder in this moment. He'd likely kill her if she did, and she knew in her soul that once he realized what he'd done, he'd be quick to join her - Modell's game of Russian Roulette reaching a sick completion two years later.

"I'm Scully," she lamented, her voice wavering despite her best efforts. "Linda's right behind you. She's telling you I'm her."

She saw a flash of something in Mulder's eyes, but then he glanced back down at Linda's feet, his breath hitching in his chest before turning back to her. "You killed her!" he seethed with wet eyes.

"Mulder, I'm Scully. I'm not dead. She wants you to shoot me. She knows you'll never forgive yourself," Scully implored. She couldn't let that happen.

"Shut up!" he screamed, using a desperate tone she'd never heard from him before.

She flinched as tears started welling in her eyes. "Listen to me!" she screamed back. Scull was visibly trembling and she wondered if it looked like Linda Bowman was shaking and crying in front of him. "Your mother is Teena! Your sister is Samantha!"

"Shut up!" he screamed again. Scully could tell in his mind he was trying not to listen to her to avoid being influenced by Bowman, completely unaware that he already was.

"I warned you," she pleaded, hoping using something from a private conversation would help establish trust. "Don't play her game."

Mulder was breathing heavily as he digested her words, but before he could say anything else, Linda Bowman moved from behind Mulder and Scully took her shot. He jumped, but put his gun up in stunned surprise, looking at the floor rather than anything else. She saw his head pivot to the same spot he'd been checking back to as he stared down in shellshock.

"Mulder?" she called out, her voice sounding weak and scared - exactly how she felt.

He turned to her and she saw dazed recognition. There was still plenty of disbelief, but she felt confident enough to walk towards him, placing a comforting hand on his arm when she was next to him.

Scully wanted to comfort him immediately, but she needed to make sure Linda was incapable of putting on any other smoke and mirrors. She bent down to check a pulse and stared in disgust as Linda rasped, "You think you can hold me?" Looking at Mulder, Scully stood up and watched as his mouth moved and made no sound - he just stared blankly at the ground.

"Yes, we'd like an ambulance to 214 Chanel Avenue," she stated into the phone, watching out of her periphery as Mulder stumbled slightly away from the scene. She walked behind him, knowing Linda wasn't going anywhere and wanting to make sure he didn't fall. "We have a suspect down with a gunshot wound and an agent going into shock," she replied as she watched Mulder start to tremble.

As soon as she knew they were on the way, she put her phone in her pocket and gently whispered, "Mulder?"

Mulder turned around and locked eyes on her with an intensity that gave her chills. In an uncharacteristic move, he stepped forward and grabbed her with a desperation that tore a gasp from her lips. Within an instant his hands were in Scully's hair, threading his fingers through the strands to feel for a non-existent bullet wound. She hadn't brushed her hair since that morning and that was before putting hairspray in it, so his fingers would catch every now and then on a snare and he'd pause to avoid hurting her.

"You're okay, you're okay," he kept whispering over and over. It wasn't a question or a statement - it was a prayer. His fingers were trembling against her scalp and she was even more certain he was in shock.

"Mulder-" she started, only to be interrupted by him wrapping his arms around her and clutching her body to his, as if maybe she would dissolve into him and he could keep her safe forever. He kept trying to kiss her temples, her forehead, anything he could reach really, but his puckered mouth kept giving way to open mouthed sobs pressed against her skin. She felt her brow furrow as she wrapped her arms around his middle, letting him coddle her in an attempt to comfort himself. It was working for both of them.

"I-I'm so sor-ry, Scully," he panted. His inability to catch his breath made her worry he was having a panic attack and was going to make him hyperventilate.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Mulder," she stated firmly, rubbing her hands up and down his back.

He pulled away slightly so he could cup her cheeks with his palms. "I scared you," he rasped, holding her face in his hands like she would fall apart without him. How true the reverse seemed to be. "Y-you were scared."

"I-no, no, Mulder I knew you'd never hurt me," she replied shakily, trying to get her own adrenaline under control as she put her hands on his forearms.

His face contorted into a mask of pain again as he shook his head. "I wanted to. Bowman didn't even need to tell me to, I wanted to kill-" he gasped, too overwhelmed to speak. "I wanted to kill you," he whispered in anguish as tear tracks cut his cheeks.

"You wanted to kill her, not me," she corrected, moving her arms to hold his forearms lightly.

"I saw you shoot yourself," he sobbed. "You begged me to make her stop and I-I couldn't."

Scully's heart broke for him. Seeing the fake crime scene at his apartment where it was made to look like he'd shot himself was painful enough, she couldn't imagine seeing it played out in front of her. "Oh, Mulder," she whispered, a tear falling off of her eyelashes and onto his hand.

"I'll never get that image out of my head."

She wasn't sure what to do, so she took one of his hands and guided it to her chest, trying to ignore how the warmth of his palm felt against the tops of her breasts. "Do you feel that? I'm alive. I'm okay."

Scully felt his fingers flex slightly, pressing into her skin. "Your heart's racing," he said. A huff of exasperation almost escapes her lips that he managed to find another way to worry about her, but his voice sounds clearer than it just had. He was starting to move into the present with her instead of replaying the last five minutes, and that was exactly where she needed him to be.

She placed her hand over his shirt and felt a similar thrumming within his own chest. "So is yours," she replied, not taking her other hand off of his so he'd keep it there on her chest. "We're okay, Mulder."

Another tear slid down his cheek as his eyes just roamed her face. It was as if he thought looking away for a second would break the illusion, and he'd turn to find her laying lifeless on the floor again. The hand that wasn't over her heart moved and wiped away her tears, spending a moment to caress the skin of her cheek before moving somewhere else - the nape of her neck, her hair, her hip, anywhere he could.

Mulder was touching her so intimately it made her blush, made her worry what the officers coming would think when they saw the way he was clinging onto her, but shucking him off was the last thing she'd consider doing.

They needed this.

[atths--twice]

Five Times Mulder and Scully Stopped for Gas

During a group rewatch of Dreamland, a comment was made: “From Scully's confused expressions in this gas station scene, I like to infer that M&S have an established routine at gas stations, and obviously Morris Fletcher isn't complying.”

Well... how could I not answer the call? 

So here is a glimpse into five different times Mulder and Scully stopped for gas, and where we find them as they do. 

They pulled into a gas station and up to the pump, their first case together just beginning, and the rental car low on gas. Scully unbuckled her seatbelt, opened her door, and started to get out of the car.

“Oh,” Mulder said, causing her to pause, and look back at him. “No, I got it.” He took his seatbelt off and started to get out of the car.

“I’m quite capable of pumping gas, Agent Mulder,” she said hotly, the conversation she had with Ethan recently, fresh in her mind. That ideas such as taking out the trash or pumping gas was a “man’s job” and how that belittled women. “I can and have done so on my own, I don’t need—”

“Agent Scully,” he cut across her, his brow furrowed. “In no way am I insinuating that you are not capable of doing something as mundane as pumping gas into a vehicle. I was merely defaulting to the arrangement I have had with other partners, in which the driver is in charge of filling the tank. I don’t know how you did it before, but that’s how I’ve always done it.” He stared at her innocently, and she felt her anger abating, nodding at him once before she closed her door, leaned back in her seat, and buckled her seat belt.

He smiled and nodded, getting out of the car and heading inside the station. Coming back out a few minutes later, he laid the items he purchased on his seat - sunflower seeds, two bottles of water, and a chocolate bar - which he handed to her. She looked at him in surprise and took it before he started to pump the gas. Looking down at the chocolate bar, she smiled at the small peace like offering, and put it into her bag to enjoy later.

Leaving Comity, determined to never come back, Scully angrily drove them out of town, blowing through a stop sign. Mulder sighed and then sighed again, before she told him to shut up once more. Silence hung heavy in the car and her anger was palpable. Seeing the gas gauge on empty, it was her turn to sigh, and then shake her head.

A station appeared a few miles down the road and she pulled in and up to the pump. Mulder took off his seat belt as she put the car in park. While they usually did adhere to the long standing whoever drives pumps the gas, more often than not, Mulder would take the role upon himself, regardless of his position in the car. Even if she tried to stop him, he would simply grin and shrug, continuing with the job at hand.

Sometimes she did not mind being the one who paid and collected snacks, but some days, she would blow up at him that this was once again a hunter/gatherer type situation. At his confused look, she would shake her head and explain, again, how for some reason pumping gas was seen as manly, so of course he would jump to do his duty. To which he would then shake his head, and explain to her, again, how that was ridiculous and he never saw them that way.

Well, tonight she definitely did not want his help, not in any way. “I got it, Mulder. Please, don’t trouble yourself.” Taking off her seat belt angrily, she opened the door and slammed it as stepped out.

“What the hell?” She heard and turned around to look at him, standing outside the car.

“What, Mulder? I’m the driver, I get the gas. That was one of our agreements, right?” she asked, seething inside as she crossed her arms and stared at him. She had half a mind to drive away and leave him in that crazy little town, never looking back.

“Jesus Christ, Scully,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you seriously still angry? Everything has gone back to how it’s meant to be and yet you’re still upset. So yeah, what the hell?” He opened his arms, moving around the trunk of the car, walking closer to her.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, raising her voice and stepping closer to him. “You … you degraded me in front of Detective White, repeatedly. You made me feel less than, numerous times and you’re just going to what, blame it on the alignment of the planets? The planets made you act like a jackass? Made you treat me as … your tagalong, the person whom you ditched to hang out with some tall perky “blonde.” None of that was you?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms tighter.

“I did not ditch you,” he scoffed and she answered with a scoff of her own. “I didn’t. I … you were checking on Jay’s body and we had been … at odds with each other -”

“Because you kept cutting me down in front of Detective White!” she interrupted, throwing her hands up and staring at him. “Not only was that rude to do to me personally, but professionally … Jesus, Mulder. Do you have any idea how that made me look? I don’t care who else is around, male or female, I am your partner and you treated me like some afterthought who was called upon when needed, but left once something, or someone, better came along. The ‘alignment of the planets’ is a shitty excuse for your behavior.”

“You think I would have behaved that way if it hadn’t been the case? That I really feel that way, like you’re a tagalong?”

“It started the minute we walked into that funeral home, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head “If you detect a hint of skepticism or incredulity in Agent Scully’s voice …” Why? Because I chose to want to look further than the ‘satan is to blame’ fear mongering? The belief that satanic rituals were the culprit was enough, simply because someone said so? Well, then, look at me! I’m the Queen of England! It’s true, I said so!” Throwing her hands up again, she stared at him and he shook his head.

“The eyewitnesses to the kids murder said it was as much, and yes I now know it was a lie, but their stories corroborated each other, why would they not have been believed?” Mulder asked, and Scully walked a couple of steps away, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Mulder,” she said, turning to him with an incredulous look. “Is it so much easier for you to believe in satanic rituals, than two pretty, popular girls deciding one night to kill someone? It’s not as though it hasn’t happened before.” He stared at her and she scoffed again. “Well, I can’t look at evidence that points to a satanic cult ritual story and not try to find a plausible explanation. I can’t accept at face value, something that others believe without question. That is not me … and you should know that by now.” She deflated like a balloon, no longer angry, just hurt by his actions. “I deserved to be treated better than I was by you, in front of others, alone, planets aligned or not.” He looked down at the ground and nodded, before looking up and nodding at her once again.

She sighed and walked into the station to pay for their gas. Watching him from inside, she saw him get back into the car and she sighed. “You okay, ma’am?” the young clerk asked, and she nodded with a forced smile. Taking her receipt, she took a deep breath, and stepped outside and over to the already opened gas cap.

Choosing to let it be a peace offering, even if it slightly enraged her, she pumped the gas. Watching the back of his head as she did, she tried to let go of the past few days, and the argument they had just engaged in, in public no less. Closing her eyes, she stood until the gas shut off and she replaced the nozzle, closed the tank, and got back in the car. The silence a little thinner, they headed out of town, relieved to put it behind them.

________________________

Another chemo treatment with an unscheduled stop along the way, as she was unable to keep her stomach from throwing up what little was inside it. The effort it took left her weak and sweaty, but she tried her hardest not to let it show. She took deep breaths and tried to swallow down the returning bile that threatened to gag her every few seconds. Her eyes closed, she felt the car slowing down, causing her to open them.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I need to stop for gas. I was in a rush this morning and I didn’t have time. I’ll be quick,” Mulder said quietly, and she hummed in response, knowing he must see how weak she was feeling, and she hated it.

As the car stopped, she was determined to not let the cancer or the exhausting rounds of chemo take so much from her. She unbuckled her seat belt and pushed herself up into a better sitting position. Reaching for the door handle, she was easily stopped by Mulder’s hand.

“What are you doing, Scully?” he asked so incredibly softly, it was as if no words were spoken at all.  

“Snacks,” was all she could breathe out, before she broke out in a sweat, falling back into the seat, her eyes closing.

“I’ve got it, Scully. I’ve got it,” he said, softer than before, if that was possible. His hand moved gently from hers, his door opening and shutting softly.

She remembered the sound of the gas cap being removed, the nozzle being placed inside, but nothing after, until he was unbuckling her seat belt and helping her out of the car.

“Come on, Scully, I got you,” he said quietly, bringing her carefully to her feet, letting her try to stand on her own, before putting his arm around her waist and walking her slowly to her apartment.

She was sweaty again and nearly there, when she almost collapsed. He caught her and lifted her into his arms, walking the few remaining steps down the hall to her door. He opened it, carried her to her room, and set her on her bed. He took off her shoes and helped her to lay down, before disappearing.

She heard the front door open and shut once, then again, as she kept her eyes closed, focusing on her breathing. It was quiet for a few minutes, and then his voice spoke softly close to her ear.

“Scully, drink this, but just a sip.” A straw was placed in her mouth and the sweet, cold, bubbly taste of 7-Up filled her mouth. “That’s it, just a little bit. It should help settle your stomach.”

She took slow sips for nearly an hour, before he was satisfied she would be okay, and could hold more down. He gingerly helped her remove and change her sweat soaked shirt, before she laid back down. A soft moist cloth, gently stroked across her face and her forearms, cooling her down. She kept her eyes closed throughout, thanking God for gas stations with little convenience stores and a man like Mulder who was there to catch her when she stumbled and needed him most.

_______________________

“You seriously expect to drive?” Mulder asked, as they walked toward her car on their way to her Lamaze class.

“I do expect to drive. I drove home from the bureau today. I’m not an invalid, I’m just pregnant,” she said, giving him a look.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “You are very pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, turning to him and placing a hand up to stop him from walking.

“I meant … that’s very true … you’re pregnant." He cleared his throat as he hugged the pillow he had grabbed from inside, a poor item choice to protect his body. She narrowed her eyes at him and he winked at her. “I thought we were in a hurry?” Staring at him a second longer, she moved her hand and continued on to the car.

As she drove away, after exhaling loudly when she sat down, while Mulder wisely kept his mouth shut, she saw the gas tank was empty. Sighing, she headed to the gas station, and pulled up to the pump. Turning off the car, she looked over at him.

“Well, I can’t pump the gas, I’m pregnant,” she said, trying not to smile. He stared at her and shook his head, smiling himself as he opened the door and got out of the car. She smiled as the door shut and she rubbed her belly.

A knock sounded on her window and she jumped. Looking at him, she rolled it down and raised her eyebrows. “Do you want anything from inside?”

“Surprise me,” she smiled and he leaned in to kiss her. Pulling back, she grinned and he shook his head before turning around and walking inside. She laughed as she continued to rub her ‘very pregnant’ belly, and waited for him to come back.

He walked out, his hands behind his back, heading for her door. “Pick a hand,” he said and she smiled. Pointing to the left, he handed her a bag of sunflower seeds and she stuck out her lip. Smiling, he held out his right hand and the package of peanut butter cups. She gasped and grinned as she grabbed it.

Stepping back, he smiled and walked around the car to pump the gas, as she opened the wrapper on her candy. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes, smiling as the delicious combination of peanut butter and chocolate hit her tongue.

A couple of minutes later, he opened the door and got inside, smiling as he did. She wordlessly handed over the other half of her candy and he grinned as he took it and shoved it all in his mouth, chewing it up as she started the car.

“I’m driving on the way back,” he mumbled, nearly incoherent around his mouth full of chocolate and peanut butter. She laughed as she rolled up her window and they drove away.

___________________

The sun was beginning to rise as she pulled into the gas station, Mulder asleep beside her. She shook her head and turned off the car. Grabbing some money from the bag in the back, she looked at Mulder once more before going inside to pay for the gas and some essentials.

There was a doughnut shop next door and she stepped in to buy a few for the road, two coffees, and two bottles of orange juice. Walking back to their car with a tray holder and the bags of items, she carefully opened the back door and set the drinks on the floorboard and the bags on the seat. Shutting the door softly, she pumped the gas, filling their car with the necessary fuel to keep them moving.

Pulling away slowly, she entered a parking spot away from the pumps, as she looked out onto the wide expanse of the desert. Mulder was still asleep beside her and she glanced over at him, before getting out of the car, to grab the food in the backseat.

Sitting back down in the driver’s seat, she took out her doughnut and watched the sun rise. A week on the run and it was already exhausting. The constant moving from place to place was a necessity she knew, but it was hard. A moment of peace in this little corner of the world, was everything to her right now. Taking a sip of coffee, she looked over as Mulder began to stir. Opening his eyes, he blinked at the early light around him.

“Hey,” she said with a smile and he yawned, stretching and sitting up straighter. He shivered and looked around with a deep breath. “There’s coffee and orange juice, plus some doughnuts.” He nodded as he yawned once again.

“I need to pee,” he said, getting out of the car, and heading into the gas station. Scully drank some more coffee and waited for him to come back, the sun slowly brightening the sky.

He was back quickly, shivering in the cool morning air and sat down in his seat, reaching for the coffee she offered. They were quiet as they drank, him just waking up, and her with thousands of worries burning inside her mind.

“You sure this is what you want?” he whispered in the quiet of the car, and she looked at him, staring at his profile, before he turned to look at her. He shook his head and she smiled softly.

“My answer hasn’t changed since the last ten times you’ve asked me that question,” she answered quietly. “This is where I want to be, need to be. Sitting here in some gas station, just like countless other times, together. Mulder, I can’t be away from you anymore, so yes, this is what I want. Is it what you want?”

He frowned at her and shook his head. “Running, always looking over our shoulder, no that isn’t what I want. Especially not for you,” he sighed and looked out the window. “But I can’t imagine being here alone, not again. I ached for you, Scully. Physically ached for you.” He turned to look at her again and she reached to touch his face.

“I know. I did for you too,” she whispered. “So yes, this is what I want. I’m right where I’ve always been meant to be.” He touched her hand that was resting on his face. They stared at one another, the sun casting them both in the early light. He kissed her palm before she moved her hand.

Setting her coffee in the cup holder, she started the car, backed up, and left the gas station. Reaching for his hand, she squeezed when he laced his fingers with hers.

“Did you happen to get any sunflower seeds?” he asked, after a few minutes of silence.

“Mmm-hmm and a couple of iced teas too,” she said with a smile, causing him to grin.

“My little gatherer,” he teased, squeezing her hand, causing her to narrow her eyes. Lifting her fingers to his lips, he looked at her. “Could be love.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” she affirmed, squeezing his hand lightly.

He kissed her hand once again as she turned her eyes back to the road, heading wherever it would take them.

[sambergscott]

never seen you this happy, never seen you so peaceful

mac’s first birthday fic in honour of the birthday girl @fourdrinkamy 😘

She can’t believe she has a one year old, that it’s been a full 365 (and a half) days since she pushed Mac out surrounded by Scully’s fart candles and firefighters and Captain Holt dancing to Push It.

Obviously she is aware that a year has passed. She has finished a planner, started a new one, celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, watched her husband agonise over more and more grey hairs, completed maternity leave, returned to work, received a commendation for her work during the blackout and gradually fit back into her old clothes. Mac is no longer a not-so-tiny newborn and is instead a walking, talking, fully fledged member of their family. And yet it’s all happened so fast.

She’s spent two months of the last twelve planning this day; consulting Charles on food, Rosa on decorations (with a strict no balloon arch policy) and inviting every Santiago, Peralta and detective in the Ninety-Ninth Precinct to their apartment to celebrate Mac’s big day.

And he’s sleeping through it all.

She wouldn’t normally complain because she’s blessed to have a baby at all (there was a case involving a guy in the Colombian cartel and six stressful months where she didn’t think this was going to happen for them) and is especially blessed to have a baby that sleeps (her friends at Mommy & Me class are inconceivably jealous), but a first birthday is a big deal and she’d quite like him to be awake to enjoy it. Even if it’s only for 10 minutes just to get some pictures.

She thinks screw it and decides to wake him up. It’s a strategy that has worked out alright for her in the past, Mac’s very existence, and the wonderful life she is living now, owed to that fateful day where she showed up at Jake’s door with her screw light and breezy monologue.

She dodges Mason and Matthew running around like madmen, smiles politely at Holt and Kevin and rescues her Le Creuset pot from Hitchcock and Scully en route to the nursery. It’s a small room at the back of their apartment, formerly a guest room for whenever her parents came to stay, and if they have more kids in the future they’ll definitely have to move somewhere bigger, but for now it’s perfect. They went for a jungle theme with a mural (painted by Terry) on one wall, a giraffe twice the size of Mac and forest green cushions on her hand-me-down rocking chair from her parents. There’s a bookshelf overflowing with books, a couple of framed family pictures, including one from the hospital on the day he was born, and the simple Ikea crib that took them a full day to assemble.

She approaches said crib, Mac sleeping soundly inside it and leans down to stroke his father’s unruly curls. He shifts in his sleep, makes a noise of discontent and opens his big, beautiful eyes.

So much like Jake, she thinks for the millionth time.

“Hey, birthday boy,” she murmurs quietly. “Your whole family is here to see you, you know.”

He makes another discontented grumble as if to say “and you woke me up just to tell me that?”, closing his eyes again.

“Oh no, no, no.” She lifts him out his crib and bounces him in her arms. “Time to wake up, Mr Mac.”

She can hear the party in full swing in the other room, the muffled sound of Shake it Off coming through the speakers. It’s Jake and Mac’s favourite song and she genuinely has about 15 different videos of them dancing to it saved in her phone. She knows how excited Jake was to dance to it with him at the party and, as if on cue, he pops his head around the nursery door.

He immediately narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Holding our son,” she responds, feigning innocence. “What are you doing?”

“Saw you on the baby monitor app, thought I’d come investigate.”

Investigate. Like she’s some criminal.

He has this theory. A completely baseless, more-insane-than-flat-earthers theory, that she likes to wake Mac up before he’s ready.

And OK, yes, maybe she has woken him up once or twice to go to the stationary store that had a sale on.

And, fine, sometimes after a long shift at work she gets a little impatient and prematurely wakes him up from his nap.

And she did just wake him up so he could come and enjoy his birthday party, but it’s a special circumstance and it’s not like she does it everyday.

(Except for weekdays which obviously don’t count because she likes to have him ready nice and early so she gets a bit of one-on-one time before she has to leave him with a ‘sitter all day).

(Weekends don’t count either because they’re her days off and she has a lot of baby snuggles to fit into a limited time).

“I’ll have you know that he was awake when I came in.” She sniffs defiantly.

“Of course he was,” he says, walking into the nursery with this smug look on his face that is simultaneously the most annoying and hottest thing she’s ever seen. 

“You should let him sleep, Ames. There’s nothing wrong with him sleeping in. He’s just like his dad and I turned out alright, didn’t I?”

She glances at an unknown stain on his shirt.

“OK, maybe don’t answer that,” he adds in retrospect. “The point is that he’s a sleepy baby. The doctor said it’s totally normal and she could give us the numbers of a hundred other parents who would kill to have babies who sleep as much as Mac. We should consider ourselves lucky.”

“We are lucky,” she smiles softly at the little guy in her arms. “The luckiest. I just...”

“Miss him,” Jake answers for her, crouching next to the armchair and joining her in admiring their sleeping baby. “I get it, babe. We made an awesome kid. I miss him when he’s asleep too.”

She pouts. “I planned this amazing party for him and he’s slept through the whole thing.”

He opens his mouth to say something, then hesitates. She can practically see his brain whirring. It’s a familiar look, one he gets when he’s about to solve a case or say something super romantic. “This is happening,” he decides. And then he pokes one of their son’s adorable chubby cheeks.

Mac reluctantly opens one eye and upon seeing mom and dad, immediately opens the other. He grins at them and even after a year of cute moments just like it, it has still not got old.

“You just woke him up!” Amy gasps, offended. “How come you’re allowed to and I’m not?”

“Maybe I did it for you, Ames. You gave birth to him while managing a freaking citywide emergency, I’m pretty sure I can wake him up just this once to enjoy the birthday party you so brilliantly planned.”

“You’re the best,” she replies, kissing his cheek and hearing a click as Jake captures the moment.

“Birthday selfie!” He exclaims, grinning at her with the exact same smile as their son.

They rejoin the party and Amy holds him as everyone sings Happy Birthday and Jake helps him blow out his birthday candles (and later reveals that he wished for another Die Hard sequel and a brother or sister for Mac) and when Amy puts the finishing touches to His First Year scrapbook: Twelve Months, One Baby, she is certain that the last year has been the best one ever.

And they still have a lifetime more ahead of them.

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 4

So How’d It Go? Read on AO3 here

Angst warning!! This is an important chapter but damn was it hard to write! Tagging @today-in-fic . Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

“Dana Scully speaking”

“So how’d it go?”

“You know hello would have been nice Missy”

“Tell me! You can’t just leave the house on Thursday with that dress in your suitcase and expect me to not want details?”

“Did you go through my luggage?”

“I was looking for a top. But who was the guy? Was it David from work? Or Mark from that bar that one time?”

“And why should I tell you?”

“Dana this is the first time you’ve gone out in a year-”

“10 months.”

“Whatever. I just want to know who the lucky guy is.”

“His name is Mulder…”

“Mulder?”

“It’s his last name. He doesn’t like his first.”

“Mysterious. I like it. Go on.”

“He’s living in my old apartment”

“Wow Danes that seriously some rom com shit”

“I know, I know. He’s cute. Tall, far too confident, obviously brilliant…”

“Sounds like you’re already in love”

“But I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“What, why? It was only the first date what could he have possibly done wrong”

“He works at the FBI. On unexplained cases of the supernatural variety. X files he called them.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know if I can see him again.”

“Does he know?”

“Did I tell him on our first and probably only date that if he looks hard enough he likely has a file in his office with my name in it? No, he doesn’t know.”

“Do you think he’s doing an undercover investigation on you?”

“Gee thanks Mis, because the only reason a guy would be interested in me would be because he’s on a secret case”

“I’m not saying that! But don’t you think it’s a little weird that the minute you moved out of your old apartment an FBI agent investigating the paranormal moves in to take your place?”

“I don’t know Missy. I don’t know, it's just too much to think about. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Ok. You’re coming home on Monday right?”

“Yea. I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight Danes.”

“Night Missy.”

It was her luck that something like this would happen. Hadn’t she already been through enough? She left Stanford with a medical degree and all the freedom in the world, moved to her favorite city, and started saving lives. She made the world a better place, worked her ass off day in and day out to help children, saving God’s little angels, and how does He repay her? By ripping her life into pieces and throwing them into the trash, and then lighting the trash can on fire. So she moves back home, stays with her family. She recovers, she fights to get the life she had back, and she finally develops some sense of normalcy, even getting confident enough to go back out with a guy. And he’s a fucking alien investigator at the FBI. Like she hadn’t dealt with enough G-men already. Now this man who had somehow captivated her mind for the last month was just another threat. And she really was so naive as to believe the world would throw a perfectly good man in her lap.

She certainly hadn’t been looking. When he had first called her all she wanted was for him to leave her alone. She didn’t trust men anymore, and certainly didn’t feel like putting in the effort to court one. But talking to him in her apartment made her feel those butterflies she hadn’t felt in a long time. He just had this air around him, an aura that projected both confidence and a pure wild energy, a mix that intoxicated her every time she drew near him. He grabbed her wrist and she hadn’t worn a bracelet for the next week. She could still feel the phantom grip of his fingers and the electricity that flowed through them, like a newly connected circuit powering up for the first time. He hadn’t left her head since. She tried to call him as soon as she got home the next day, but she had been so caught up with his floppy hair and lopsided smile that she had completely forgotten to save his number from her mother’s phone to hers. So she placed faith in the postal system and hoped he would be charmed by her antics. And it worked. She was going out on a date with a man who made her head spin, one who tried to pretend that he was unphased by probably the tightest dress she owned even though he didn’t close his mouth for a full minute when he first saw her.

The date was perfect until they had talked about jobs. And then he dropped the bomb and she tried to brush off the feeling in the pit of her stomach by making stupid jokes and he laughed but she couldn’t help but dwell.

“UFO’s, cryptids, anything from crop circles to spontaneous human combustion. If the FBI can’t solve it, they toss it in my pile”

Did he know? He couldn’t have. What kind of psychopath brings up the fact that he studies alien abductions to someone like her. And if he really was undercover he wouldn’t want her to know what his real job was would he? He would have lied.

Unless he was toying with her.

Unless this was another experiment on her, another way to keep tabs on her, make sure she didn’t talk, make sure she was doing her very best to forget everything that happened to her.

She got up from the bed abruptly and shut the blinds on the windows. They clacked together and then the room fell into deep silence again.

He didn’t talk about work for the whole rest of the dinner. He talked about baseball, about how he goes for runs in the park she used to walk through after a long day shift. He said “Behold, a man” when the waiter brought out her garlic and herb chicken. Mulder wouldn’t do that to her. Mulder was just a man with a job whose only interest in her life was whether she was free next Friday to go out again. He paid for the cab back to her hotel and opened the door for her to get in. He was a gentleman.

He’s trying to get her to trust him.

And suddenly everything clicked into place and the air left her lungs. She found herself stumbling to the bed, she knocked over the lamp but it was in her way and she just needed to be in bed. Her ears were ringing, she couldn’t hear, everything was going in and out of black.

He’s watching you. He’s with them. He’s trying to silence you. He’s going to follow you, gain your trust and then he’s going to kill you. He knows where you live, he can track you down, they’ve tried to take her before and he will try again. He’s with them, he’s with them, he’s going to kill you, they’re going to kill you.

Everything’s bright and she’s back in that place with needles and tubes in and out of her, and she knows she’s in a hotel in DC but as many times as she tries to wrap the blankets around her and tuck her feet under her she cannot become small enough to escape them. She feels tears hot down the sides of her cheeks and the sounds of drills in her ears and there's no escape. She hears pounding and wailing and hands grip her wrists and they burn, they burn, so she screams. She won’t let them take her again, she won’t.

“Scully, Scully it's me”

She fights it, and it’s him, it’s Mulder and he’s trying to take her, like she thought.

“Let go of me!” She shrieks, flailing about but she’s trapped, he’s got her trapped, in bed sheets tied around her wrists and feet. “Don’t take me!”

He lets go but she’s still trapped, still fighting.

“Scully no one’s going to take you.”

“Yes! Yes they’re going to take me! You’re going to take me!” He touches her hand and it doesn't burn but it makes a lump in her throat and her fist turns flat. He pulls a sheet off of her and she feels exposed.

“Scully look at me.”

She does. She looks through tears at a blurred man in her hotel room. He doesn’t look like a threat. He looks sad.

“How did you get in here.” He steps to the edge of the bed and she pushes herself back towards the headboard, away. He raises both hands and walks to the other side of the bed where he sits.

“You left your wallet in the taxi. He called me because I paid and I picked it up and brought it here. I made it to your room and I wasn’t going to come in but I heard the lamp crash. So I used the spare key in the wallet and let myself in.”

He seemed to be telling the truth, holding up the wallet as evidence. She hadn’t even realized it was gone.She unlocked the door with the key she kept in her purse. She started to take in her surroundings, the lamp crashed to the floor, the bedsheets thrown from the bed. She looked up at him and saw nothing but concern over his face.

Every emotion, shame, embarrassment, anger, sadness, all of it hit her at once and she sobbed.

He reached over to touch her but she shouted “No!”, like a wounded dog. Her voice didn’t sound real. “Please don’t touch me”.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

He watched as tears racked her body, never moving from his spot on the bed. She cried in a ball, hands covering her face, arms and knees tucked to her sides, protecting her from nothing. Then, she laid down, and cried until the tears had to be blinked down the sides of her face while she stared at the ceiling. She felt him get off the bed, and she bolted up, dizzying herself, but he nodded and only walked over to the minifridge to pull out a bottle of water. She sat up and he resumed his position at the end of the bed.

“Drink some water. Can you breathe again?”

She hated the way he talked to her, like she was a child. But he was right. She accepted the bottle and drank half, gulping down cold water as a welcomed change to the hot sheets.

“Yes. I’m sorry you had to see that. You can go now.”

“Don’t be sorry. I know panic attacks can be bad.”

“I’m ok now. You can go.” The crack in her voice made both of them wince. A different type of silence filled the room.

“You know I am a psychologist, but it doesn’t take an Oxford degree to diagnose PTSD.”

“I said I’m fine. You can go now Mulder.”

“What happened Dana.”

She sat and stared at him, sitting on her bed, asking her to spill her darkest secrets to him. Everything about telling him felt wrong but this is the first time anyone has offered to listen.

“About a year ago, a man broke into my apartment and abducted me. He drugged me and put me in the back of his truck and drove me to a cornfield in Virginia. I remember waking up and seeing the stars and trying to run but I was tied down. And then a bright light came and I-” She choked back another sob, but he shifted closer to her, eyes wide, and nodded for her to continue. “I don’t remember what happened. But my mother found me on her doorstep a month later in a hospital gown and…” her voice cut out. He again moved closer and when she didn’t pull back he slowly raised his hand and put it on her knee. He looked at her as if to ask “is this ok” and she nodded in response.

“I don’t remember anything except seeing my mother’s face again for the first time. She looked so… so terrified of me. Like I had grown another head or something. And then I looked down, and I was holding a baby”. She felt another tear run down her cheek.

“I was holding a baby and I didn’t know whose it was and I almost dropped it. Mom took it from me and my sister came and helped me inside, the whole time they were asking me where I’d been but I didn’t know. I didn’t remember anything. All of these people showed up at our house and asked me over and over again “where were you?” “what happened” and I just kept answering them I don’t know, I don’t know. They said I went on a bender. That I ran away from work and responsibilities, probably with some friends. They said I was pregnant and didn’t know it, and they tried to take the baby for testing but my mother wouldn’t let them. She didn’t believe them, she knew I wouldn’t do that. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but we packed up everything and moved out of my apartment… your apartment. They didn’t even open an investigation on the man that took me.”

“I can.” She had been staring at the lamp on the ground, she hadn’t noticed him staring at her with such intensity it made her shiver.

“You don’t get it. They didn’t open a case on me because there wasn’t enough evidence-”

“They didn’t open a case on you because you were abducted. The FBI has been trying to suppress alien abductions for years and you are just another victim. I could open a case on you, start an investigation, really stick it to them-”

“I am not a case that needs to be solved, Mulder.”

“But I can help you Scully. Do you remember anything from that night, anything at all?”

“Mulder!”

“I don’t understand, why would you not want to know what happened?”

“Because Mulder, because sometimes the weight of what happened is too much to bear. Because while you try to hunt down monsters they terrorize me in my sleep. Because there’s a baby in my house and I don’t know where it came from.” She realized she was yelling at him but she didn’t care. “Because frankly it’s none of your goddamn business what happened to me if I don’t want it to be. The men who you work for threatened to kill me and my family if I tried to find out what happened to me and for all I know you’re one of them.” Her voice was shrill and sharp like broken glass and it cut just where it needed to.  

“I’m sorry.”

She met his eyes again and they were wide and sad.

“I want to help you Scully. I’ll do…” he took a breath, “anything. I’ll do anything to help you.”

“I need you to leave.”

“Ok.”

He got up and she remained on the bed, drained.

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ok. Goodbye Scully.”

“Goodbye Mulder.”

[dreamingofscully]

Season 2 Summary - X-Files Rewatch

(Here’s a link to my Season 1 Summary, so you can see where they’ve been so far.)

THEME: IT'S PERSONAL

There are 3 distinct periods that encompass season 2: Pre-abduction, Abduction, and Post-abduction. Here are the summaries, and I'll go into detail below and provide a summary at the end.

The pre-abduction arc is more similar to season 1 but with the addition of Mulder being beaten-down and feeling like giving up and Scully trying to motivate him and keep them connected. Scully is still "innocent" here, and freely expresses her feelings for Mulder.

The abduction arc has everything to do with Mulder. (It obviously impacts Scully but that is discussed in the "post-abduction" section.) When Scully is taken, Mulder realizes that his priorities are not the same as they were before he met her. He is devastated, guilt-ridden, but cannot give up. The end of this arc is all about the episode One Breath and the roller-coaster of emotions that Mulder goes through in it. His rage and need for vengeance, his grief, and finally his delight at Scully's recovery.

The post-abduction arc is the longest, and it deals with the consequences of Scully's abduction while also returning them to semi-normality as partners on the X-Files.

Pre-Abduction Arc

Mulder is depressed about not having the X-Files, and not being partnered with Scully. He assumes that the first is more significant to him but as he finds out too late, it is the latter that bothers him more. Scully is determined to maintain their connection to one another but she also hates seeing Mulder so uncharacteristically despondent, so she also tries to build him up. I love that about her. She is somewhat successful, and they have several intimate and flirty moments up until the abduction arc (see The Host and Sleepless in particular). I fully believe that Scully would have tried to initiate a romantic relationship with Mulder at some point, if she hadn't been abducted.

___________________________

Abduction Arc

Mulder gets the X-Files back, but it doesn't matter. Scully's gone, and finding her (somehow) is his only consuming thought. You see at the beginning of "One Breath", that Mulder is absentmindedly watching porn, with Scully's case-file and the last picture of her spread out on his coffee table. He doesn't sleep, and he behaves recklessly. BUT HE DOESN'T GIVE UP HOPE. Maggie Scully gave him Scully's necklace, and he will NOT give up that quest for anything, not even when Maggie herself has given up.

When Scully is returned, Mulder's grief turns into a furious quest for vengeance. She was missing before, but now she's hurt. How DARE someone hurt Scully? Everyone tells him there is no hope that she will survive, and all he has left is his thoughts of killing those who did this to her. Melissa Scully is the tether from Mulder to Scully - she hasn't given up either, has some sort of spiritual connection and awareness of Scully that no one else does. The "Nurse Owens" character is mysterious and we aren't sure who or what she is, but she also keeps Scully from drifting away until Mulder is ready to abandon his anger and stay with her, to connect with her. Which he does, thanks to Melissa's intervention.

Mulder sits beside Scully's bedside for hours, connecting with her emotionally. "I'm not sure if being here will bring you back, but I'm here." Melissa tells him to tell Scully how he feels, so I do believe he talked to her about other things. I don't know if he'd be in the emotional space to crack any jokes, so he'd keep it serious and honest and raw. How he wishes she were here, how the X-Files don't mean anything to him since she isn't there beside him. How no one else made him feel like he was worth anything. How he's sorry he never told her the risks of investigating these things. How he would do anything to have her back. How he misses her mind - how she keeps testing him and making him work for things. I'm sure there's more, but this is where I see him being emotionally at this moment.

Once Scully regains consciousness (MULDER BROUGHT HER BACK Y'ALL), Mulder has the softest smile when he goes to see her in the hospital. He is just sososo happy. All of the previous anger and sorrow is gone. His life has meaning again. How can that not be love? He's not quite aware of it as love, though.

___________________________

Post-Abduction Arc

We've lost carefree, innocent Scully for good. RIP.

Things are personal for her now. She doesn't know what happened to her, but she is disturbed that she's lost so much time. She needs to find out, and the X-Files are the best way to do so. She knows that Mulder brought her back, that he cares for her deeply in some way, and if she hadn't just experienced something terrible I think she would have done something about this knowledge. As it is, Scully has different priorities now. She's got personal reasons to work in the basement, maybe even moreso than Mulder.

She took a long while to recover from being sick, and detested that feeling of weakness. She can sense Mulder's concern and protectiveness for her, and while she doesn't believe that he thinks less of her, she is determined that she is back to fighting form, ready to take on the world like her pre-abduction self. She wants him to be looking outwards, to their quest, rather than looking beside him, constantly concerned for her well-being.

As for Mulder, he can't help it. Feelings of guilt and relief combine within him and he is worried and protective of Scully. He doesn't believe she is incompetent - far from it. He knows that now he cannot do this without her - she is the necessary component. Even finding his sister doesn't compare to his connection with her. He gives up the person he thinks is Samantha without a second thought, because otherwise it would mean losing Scully.

We have the Mulder ditching Scully in several episodes, but most notably in End Game/Colony. He doesn't want to risk her so he goes off on particularly dangerous adventures on his own. Usually, these end with Scully having to save him, emphasizing the fact that while he wants to spare her, he needs her in order to survive these outings.

In a similar vein, Mulder is contantly concerned with making sure Scully is alright. Even when he himself is hurt or more at risk he is contantly aware of her (Firewalker/Fresh Bones/F. Emasculata for some examples). He doesn't worry so much about his own life and health but he definitely wants to make sure she is OK. He never intended for her to worm his way into his life but now that she's here and she's BACK, he can't return to the way things were "Before". Things are personal for him because its not just about his selfish quest anymore where he doesn't have to care about anyone or anything except answers, its about Scully.

The season finale ends with the "It's Personal" theme as well. "My name is in those files." Scully tasks Mulder with figuring out why but she can't stay with him (and probably regrets not doing so). They are always stronger together, no matter how much Mulder tries to keep Scully away from danger by ditching her or Scully tries to wall off her emotions. It doesn't work - she ends up needing to rescue him and they go through so much together that Scully's feelings for him deepen only further.

Conclusion

The abduction arc changes a lot of things about Mulder and Scully and their relationship. The theme "It's Personal" means that things hit a lot closer to home for the both of them. Mulder has been obsessed with his quest before now, of course, but it was always something that he could pursue without caring about the personal costs, since it was only him that was paying them. Now, he is worried about losing Scully, and can't even function if she's gone. For Scully, the work is now something she pursues to get answers about her abduction, and to hold the people responsible for it to account. The work was interesting and exciting beforehand, but it was "Mulder's quest", but all that has changed now.

In season 1, Mulder was focused outwards, consumed with the X-Files while Scully slowly wiggled her way into his heart. Scully was primarily focused on the work as well, but she was also in love with Mulder - and knew it even back then. In season 2 things have flipped. Scully is focused on getting answers, while Mulder is focused on making sure Scully is there, that she's OK - because he needs her for the quest (he tells himself), but more importantly because he loves her deeply (which he can't admit to himself quite yet).

[letsperaltiago]

then together let us make a world | jake x amy |

Tooth-rotting fluff based on episode 7x01 coming through! 

Read on ao3 here! 

----------

It’s only after getting over the disappointment of Scully and Hitchcock's interview-hijack that it really hits Jake what had previously gone down: They’re going to start trying… for a baby. Gushing thoughts have completely corrupted his brain but they contain so much excitement, confidence he’s never quite felt before, and for this reason he doesn’t mind.

They’re going to start trying for a baby, a little tiny human being, that will be his and hers.

That evening Amy had brought up the pregnancy scare very delicately well aware of her husband’s much improved although still tentative feelings concerning the logistics of the baby-matter. Granted they’d crossed paths with the subject, multiple times, before Jake had indeed, and rather firmly, settled on the fact that, yes, he wanted to be a dad: specifically Amy Santiago’s child’s dad. What had up until now held him back was the question of when.

When would he be ready? When would the time be perfectly right?  When would he be able to be the exact opposite of his own dad?

Even though Amy by all means knew her husband could never turn out to be a shitty dad, or shitty anything, for that matter, and of this she’d reassure time after time, she also knew there was understandable reasoning behind his apprehension. Or that was until tonight. Tonight he hadn’t needed her delicateness, though he appreciated it, and he hadn’t cared about his former apprehension. Tonight had been and felt different.

It was as if the second the word pregnant had escaped her lips, he’d instantly felt his heart skip a beat which he at first thought was alike previous nervous occasions, right up until giving it another nanosecond to realise that this time it wasn’t the case. Different from previous times this flutter felt good, thrilling, new and akin to what could only be described as his hopes and dreams about of this long awaited epiphany. And now… it was finally here.

Sitting in bed with her, the very equivalent of the most normal end of the day for them, nothing that felt more special and right as he’d said out loud what he so shamelessly had felt as a result of her little update. The words had flown out his mouth but, for once, his spontaneous declaration were at no one’s expense because, yes, he was ready.

And now, after watching the rest of the news and settling down for the night, it really hits Jake, as they’re lying there, how truly right it all feels. He’s currently tucked into bed with his head slightly propped up watch whatever nonsense is now on TV, alongside him Amy has fallen asleep with her head on his chest, left arm and leg wrapped lovingly around him. It does constrain most of his ability to move but at the very least allows him to have his left arm under, around and holding her close in return. Even considering how normal the evening feels, it also feels that more special, truly like the start of something brand new.

Just as yet another mind numbing commercial interrupts whatever he was mindlessly pretending to watch his eyes drop to look down upon Amy’s sleeping figure. There, his eyes are met by shiny black hair standing out against her pink shirt, indeed messy after a long day but not enough to come in-between his angle of view and her beautiful face. And there it is again, he realises: the stupid smile on his face that’ll appear out of nowhere without a warning the second his mind revisits the thought of the woman before him carrying their child. There is no helping it, he thinks, before letting his fingers run through the locks carefully as to not wake her up.

“Careful, Peralta,” she rumbles, startling him even though he won’t admit to it, half of her face currently smushed comfortably into his chest, nevertheless burying it in a lazy attempt at physical affection.

“You’re absolutely in deep now. There’s no going back,” she jokes through shut eyes although he can tell that there’s a smug grin hiding in his chest.

“Oh, honey I’ve been in deep for a long time now.”

He smiles down at her continuously playing with her hair. Her eyes are still closed but her hand, which seconds ago was helping her hold onto his torso, moves to stroke his bicep. However her smile, on the other hand, quickly changes, doesn’t remain smug for long, and quickly transitions from teasing to a softer version that reflects how she’s really feeling.

“I know it’s still really early and we literally just decided to start trying, but…” she trails off after suddenly opening her eyes, as if the moment has suddenly gained a certain tint of sincerity that wasn’t there seconds ago. “… have you thought about any, you know,” she takes the tiniest of breaths, inhaling courage, before twisting her neck as much as physically possible in her given position to lock eyes with him, “baby names?”

“I actually have,” he counters, once again taking her by storm, without a flinch or any kind of sign of insecurity. Amy’s so proud of him.

With a reassuring smile he reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand, where it’d immediately been put aside when Amy had come to him with what he’d picked up on as important matter. He doesn’t even have to see at the look upon his wife’s face: he can sense that she’s beaming as he settles back against the pillow with his phone in hand.

“You made a list?” She’s truly surprised and impressed by just how much her A-typeness has worn off on him even if it’s just little things like lists.

“Yeah,” he states proudly before briefly clearing his throat thus prompting Amy to flip over, scooting back to lean her upper backside and head against his chest instead. It’s no secret that she’s extremely curious to get a look at a) her husband’s attempt at what she considers a hobby and b) what her husband considers legitimate names for their future child. This new position will allow her to look through the mystery-list with him. With both arms wrapped around her Jake holds and rests the devise on his belly for both of them to see

“…I actually started making it that evening after our talk at the hospital.”

Amy observes a slight reddening of his cheeks, perhaps not out of embarrassment per say but rather out of understanding of how very real the matter at hand has gotten. His list is no longer just a pile of names in his Notes-app where he’d, for fun and hypothetical reasons, add another one whenever he came across one he liked: now it’s a list that could quite possibly contain the name of their future child.

She grins from ear to ear way before he has the chance to start reading out loud. Just how in love with him she is keeps hitting her again and again, a thousand miles per hour, like lighting tearing apart the sky during a thunderstorm.

“The first name on the list you already know about since we’ve talked about it: Atlas.”

“Still kinda really like it,” Amy shrugs light-heartedly from where she’s comfortably leaning into him all while tracing small drawings of nothing in particular but affection his thigh.

“Our child would be the one to be named after a god, huh?” Jake teases earning him a chuckle from Amy.

“So unbiased,” she confirms jokingly.

“Exactly,” he briefly pecks the top of her head in agreement before continuing. “Alexander is up next.”

“Nu-uh!” Her body twists hurriedly in a tiny squirm of objection. “Perp-alert! I can’t have my child have the same name as one of my ex-perps.”

“Ames, combined we’ve probably arrested hundreds if not thousands of perps!”

While he can see her point: after all it is understandable that she doesn’t want their child to be associated with anything negative, this also erases a lot of possibilities on both their ends.

And although he is completely serious upon making his statement, he has to laugh at the thought of having to name their child something completely absurd because of the extremes of their job.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of names that haven’t been ruined by crime yet. There are literally billions of names out there!” On her part it is in fact a statement but ends up coming out as whine instead - a playful complaint of sorts.

“Sure,” he pauses to think for a second before pulling up a browser tab wherein starts typing obviously searching for something.

Amy’s eyes tries to keep up with his typing but Jake’s fingers have obtained their fair share of training from all the time he spends gaming on his phone, and it’s more of a struggle to follow than she likes to admit. 

All she happens to catch is that as soon as he types the first few letters of whatever he’s searching to find, the website’s name pops up as a suggestion telling her that he’s visited it before. He swiftly enters it and clicks around a few more times losing her in the process. A long list appears on what appears to be babynames.com. The thought of him visiting it on his own time, by himself as… fun? It makes her heart flutter.

“It won’t be a problem if you want our child to be called… Agamemnon.”

She immediately twists her neck to look up at him where she’s met by a deadpan she knows is trying to hide the fact that he’s cracking up on the inside.

“I mean,” she untwists her neck to grab the phone from his hand in order to have a closer look at the screen and what is written about the name. “We do seem to have something for Greek mythology so I don’t see the problem, Jake.”

Jake knows Amy like the back of his hand and it’s clear as day that she’s messing with him – but of course two can play that game.

“Okay, great,” he states matter-of-factly, “It’s settled then: we’re naming our child Agamemnon Santiago-Peralta - boy or girl.”

He gently takes back his phone to lock it as a visual settlement of the discussion.

“Okay. Cool cool cool…” Amy complies.

Silence dominates the bedroom for a few seconds before Amy twists her neck, both looking at each other trying to figure out when to kill the joke. Their shared look doesn’t last long before they break into laughter.

“I’m sorry, Ames, but you will never hear me call our child Agamemnon out loud.”

“Completely fair.”

Both of their laughs quiet down. Amy settles back down against his chest while Jake reopens his phone and Notes-app.

“What else do you have in there? I’m sure there are some genuinely good contestants.” She almost coos in order to get the conversation back and track, although more importantly to let him know she genuinely wants to hear his propositions.

This time it’s Amy turn to gentle grab the phone from him and scroll. He loves moments like these where they’re just soaking in each other’s presence without much else to do but talk or touch for the sake of it. To occupy himself in the meantime Jake allows his newly freed hands to caress her the area around her waist and stomach now suddenly also better known as where their child will be growing, becoming a tiny little individual, in what he sincerely hopes is a matter of months. A year ago he couldn’t fathom the feeling this feeling of impatience to be dad, yet alone truly, surely wanting a child. In a drastic lift-changing contrast, here they finally were, going through baby names like it was the most common thing in their world.

“Olivia is nice… Felix also good… Noah is adorable…”

Jake can tell, from the tone of her voice, that she genuinely means every single comment she makes, which wholeheartedly provokes a feeling of pride and the feeling of he can do this. The sound of her voice threats to lull him into a trancelike state, and for a moment allows his eyes to shut while he lets his ears do the job of keeping of with Amy discovering his lists. Just like his eyes, his hand’s movement on her are about to falter when suddenly his wife lets out a tiny gasp. It’s safe to say that his eyes are, just as fast as they were closed, back wide open.

“This one is really sweet,” he can tell she’s smiling from the way her voice is laced with softness. “Juliet,” she continues, out loud, to allow it to roll on her tongue and for herself to get a better taste of it.

Jake gives her some time to dwell on it before speaking up.

“Yeah, I added it after that night we watched ‘Letters to Juliet’… I don’t know if it’s too sappy for my own good, but I like the thought of the baby being like…”

Amy can tell he hesitates to finish the sentence.

“What?” she looks up at him with an eager look: only those beautiful brown eyes that at any time can calm him down, can also lure him out of his emotionally wounded shell.

“… This baby is going to be like our little love letter.”

A few beats, a matter of seconds, go by and Amy can tell he’s just about to break into cringing and a string of sarcastic comments to redeem what he’s just said. Only this time he doesn’t make it, because Amy Peralta-Santiago lives for Jake’s occasional super-soft moments and she’s not about to let this one slip away.

It’s, or so it feels, out of the blue, just as the cringe starts to break on his face, that he halts when his wife suddenly does a 180 and relocates to hover above him. He briefly, just barely manages to, catches the glimpse of a smile on her face that tells him that he’s doing just fine. That is before it disappears into a soft, warm kiss pressed to his lips.

As so many times before, an amount that he forever hopes will be infinite, their lips come together in sweet, passionate harmony.

“Don’t say anything,” she pecks the corner of his lip so softly the need for more pressure creates a burning sensation. “I love it,” she whispers into his ear, adding a kiss to the shell before moving her way back to the main target, sparking off goose bumps.

Her hands have already, even before their lips crashed, made their way to cup his face secretly enjoying the light, barely there, scruff beneath her touch.

“I love you,” he exhales, just barely making it out between clashing of their lips.

“I love you too,” is promptly returned as so many times before although it, even after being repeated many times throughout the years, never loses its true value.

He loves her so much, he can’t help but think over and over again as he the billions of baby names quickly disappear from his mind under the new, increasingly passionate circumstances. Nothing else in the world matters anymore because they’re just going to start trying.

Yeah, seriously.  

[blazeperalta]

Hindsight 20/20

A week after Jake leaves for his undercover mission, Amy can't help but vent to her colleagues about how a certain someone's feelings have left her questioning everything.

I wanted to contribute something to this super creative fandom. I have no idea if it’s any good but I had fun writing it. Hopefully someone else enjoys it! :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192810 (AO3 link)

Amy Santiago has always prided herself on being good at keeping secrets.

It’s probably a skill that comes with being one of eight siblings, and the only girl at that, because keeping secrets about one brother from another was just a part of growing up. Keeping secrets from her parents was a big no-no. And her teachers. And her Captains, obviously. But anyone that is not keeping a secret from a superior has every reason to expect said secret to be well and truly safe.

Which is why it’s such a surprise when one week after Jake left for his undercover mission, she spills her heart out to Rosa, Boyle and Gina about something she thought would be just as much of a shock to them as it was to her.

Apparently not.

The precinct’s been feeling off for the last week. As annoying and obnoxious as Peralta was (is, she reminds herself), his voice and his bets and his antics and his general being just brought a specific type of energy to the Nine-Nine. She’s experienced the lull on the very limited times he’s taken a sick day in the last 3 years she’s known him, not to mention the short time he just had off after getting suspended. But back then she’d always known he’d be back. Now he’s working with the freaking Mafia. It’s a big deal and she’s happy for him of course and when she first found out about it all she could really think about was the amount of bragging she’d have to put up with when he gets back. But after her conversation with him right before he left, all she can do now is worry about him.

If something bad goes down.

Evidently, the rest of the squad feel the same way because after a full Jake-less week at work they all agree for a few drinks at Shaw’s to get drunk and vent any worries that comes with one of your colleagues getting fake-fired and going undercover with a strict ‘no contact’ rule and hanging out with a bunch of criminals that can kill him at any second and oh God she suddenly can’t breathe again.

So she’s been sitting there pretty numb ever since they’ve arrived and has been silently sipping on her beer. She also knows Teddy’s been texting her asking if she’s still heading over to his apartment tonight but she can't bring herself to text back. Which is wrong, she's aware, but she’s enjoying half-listing to the conversation the others are having about Jake (they haven’t really expressed any worries since they got here - it’s mainly just reminiscing about the ridiculous things he did before he left).

But then Holt goes home to his husband, Terry to his family, Hitchcock and Scully to whatever it is that Hitchcock and Scully do, and Amy still can’t bring herself to go to Teddy’s. Out of guilt she sends him a quick text saying she doesn’t feel well after drinks and is heading to her own place. Teddy of course texts back with an “I understand. Feel better” and it only makes her feel worse for lying to her perfect boyfriend.

“You’re being quiet, Santiago”. Rosa’s abrupt voice snaps her out of her own thoughts and she glances up from her phone.

“Sorry,” Amy replies.

“That wasn’t a complaint”.

Amy looks around the table at the remaining members of the squad and is suddenly mindful of the fact that they all look concerned for her. It puts her at ease slightly. These people will understand what she’s going through. Holt and Terry care a great deal about Jake. She knows they see him as a son, whether they want to or not, but at the end of the day they both have a spouse - someone else to vent to. And she doesn’t feel like this is something she can vent to Teddy about

Gina of all people gives her a sympathetic look. “Ames, Jake leaving sucks balls but we’re all here for the same reason.”

“Yeah, I don’t know who I am without Jake!” Charles is heading towards hysteria again. She’s seen it a lot from him this past week. “I need a shoulder to cry on! And because I don't have Jake’s broad shoulders, you three are going to have to do!”.

Rosa pipes in again, this time in a softer voice. Well, as soft as Rosa can sound anyway. “Yeah. Look, as much as I hate…feelings. The last thing I want is for you to have a breakdown in the middle of work because you haven't dealt with what’s going on. So suck it up, man.”

Amy risks another glance at her colleagues. Gina wasn’t supposed to find out about the undercover mission but somehow figured it out anyway. She's Jake's oldest friend -known him since they were children and she stood up for him when one of the other kids stole his inhaler - Gina knew him too well to think he cut her out of his life just because he got fired. Rosa was Jake’s closest friend in the Academy; both brilliant at the time but not nearly as brilliant as they are now, and Amy knows her friendship is a big reason why Jake made it through. Charles became like Jake's brother when they were both already detectives. He always thought the world of Jake, and Amy suspects that feeling has since become mutual.

They were all Jake’s partners in some way, shape or form throughout all the most important moments in his life. And they’ve lost him for an undisclosed amount of time too. Now Amy’s definitely feeling brave.

She exhales, dragging out the pause for as long as possible. “Right before Jake left…he told me something that kind of threw me.”

She expects them to jump in - as the Nine-Nine is known to do - but they all just stare at her, eyebrows raised and drinks on the table.

“He told me he liked me. Romantic-stylez”

Rosa’s face doesn't give much away but Amy thinks she sees her eyes widen a fraction. Gina silently sips her wine while giving Amy a knowing look. And Charles—

“HE TOLD YOU??”

All of a sudden, Amy’s jaw drops. So much for being numb. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew! Who do you think urged him to ask you out?”

“He didn’t ask me out”

“Oh, my sweet naive Amy. You have no idea what you have put that boy through in the last few months.”

The words exchanged with Charles has left Amy pretty much speechless. Here she’s been feeling bad because she thought she was spilling this big secret that was supposed to be between her and Jake. Apparently Charles already knows, and Jake tried to ask her out?

Rosa and Gina were watching the whole interaction while casually sipping on their respective drinks and enjoying the free show. It piques her interest.

“Did you guys know?”

At that, Gina finally puts her glass down and licks the last remaining drops of red wine off her lips.

“No offence ‘cause you're a good detective, but I think you're the only one who didn’t, boo.”

“Wait, so he told everyone except me?”

“He didn't have to. I think the only person he actually told was Ter-bear. Everyone else kind of figured it out.”

Rosa, never one to skirt around a subject, asks the question that has been on Amy’s mind for the last seven days, “You really didn’t know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Gina’s right, you’re a good Detective. And Jake’s been openly flirting with you since you started working with him.”

“Okay, that’s not fair. Jake and I never even got along when I first started at the Nine-Nine, and there’s a difference between flirting and bickering. He's like that with everyone.”

Rose scoffs, “he’s not like that with me.”

“Or me.”

“Or me”, Charles sounds sad for some reason.

“Look”, Rosa continues, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’ve known Jake a long time and he’s never going to do something to make you feel uncomfortable. If he does, tell me and I’ll kick his ass."

“No, you’re right. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m just shocked. How long has he even felt this way?”

“Longer than he realised,” Charles butts in, “but he didn’t admit it until you ran into Teddy at Tactical Village."

Everyone gives him a look.

“Oh, was that a rhetorical question?”

“Yep,” says Rosa.

“Dammit!”

“So what exactly did he tell you?” Amy never took Rosa as the type that was invested in her friends’ personal lives, but maybe she cares more than she normally lets on.

“He saw me and walked over and made a joke. Normal Jake stuff at first. Then he suddenly seemed nervous so I asked what was wrong. He said he knows I’m with Teddy and he didn’t want to be a jerk but that he wished something had happened between us…romantically. And that he would be pissed at himself if he hadn’t told me and something bad happens while he’s undercover.”

She’s paraphrasing like she hasn’t had every single word he said memorised verbatim from the second they crossed his lips.

“What happened after that?” Charles asks with freakin’ tears in his eyes as if he’s just watched the cheesiest proposal video on YouTube.

“He just left. Didn’t even give me a chance to respond.”

“Well what would you have said, girl?” Asks Gina.

“I don’t know”, Amy admits. “I was so shocked. I always thought the teasing and banter were just some sort of competitive part of his personality. Now I can’t help but think of every interaction we’ve had ever since I’ve met him and pick it apart. I mean this is Jake Peralta we’re talking about! I didn’t know he had feelings!”

This time, it’s her turn to be the recipient of judging looks.

“You know what I mean.”

“Amy,” Charles sincerely looks at her, “I honestly think he’s the greatest person who ever lived. But Jake’s never been great at emotions. I had to basically spell it out for him that night he won the bet and took you out on that date.”

“Yeah”, Gina quips “If the blatant flirting wasn’t enough of a clue, fake-proposing to you and spending a fortune that he didn’t have on a bet where his prize was literally a date with you kind of gave it away.”

“Oh, God”. She spreads her arms out on the sticky table that must not have been cleaned all day, getting whatever alcohol has accumulated since on her fancy new blouse, and lets her head fall onto them.

The relief team. She knew he turned down the relief team. She remembered thinking it was weird at the time, and he never brought it back up which was even weirder. She remembers how upset he got when she told him she might be moving to Major Crimes. She remembers that he framed a picture of the two of them and put it next to his desk. She remembers that he wrote her a recommendation letter. She remembers it still goes on the good date list and it sucks a little less when I get to do it with you and you look great.

And now that she thinks back, maybe he did look a little bummed when she told him she was going out with Teddy and when she told him she’s going away for the weekend with Teddy and when she said she wanted to take a dance class with Teddy. She’s thinking back to every interaction she’s had with Jake in the last few months and hates herself for it. She knows she shouldn’t. She hasn’t done anything wrong, point blank. But Jake’s her partner. Her friend. The person that makes her laugh more than anyone in the world (though she wouldn’t admit it) and she hates that she hurt him - intentionally or not. Jake having feelings for her is the last thing she wants, but it’s also surely the last thing he wants too. It’s inconvenient and messy and things will probably be awkward when he gets back. And she knows it’s a long wait until then.

“I juuuu vaa to tallll to hii abooo id n i cannn”

“What?” Rosa sounds annoyed. “Get your head off the table”.

Amy shoots her head back up. She looks pained; her brow’s furrowed and her frown prominent.

“I just want to talk to him about it and I can’t.”

It’s normal for Gina to give her a look of pity, but Charles? She’s feeling really pathetic right now. Rosa’s face remains indecipherable but Amy knows.

“I guess I’m also pretty mad at him for dropping this bomb on me when he knew he was leaving.”

“I get that.” Rosa admits, “Jake could have handled this better. But I think if he wasn’t going undercover, he would have taken this secret to his grave. At least as long as you’re with Teddy. The undercover thing was probably the push he needed. It sucks for you, but people do crazy shit when the stakes are high.”

“Okay, it wasn’t like an admission of love or anything, it was admitting to a crush. He’ll probably come back with a girlfriend having forgotten all about it.”

There’s that look of pity again.

And when he eventually comes back six months later and she tells him she's still with Teddy, he tries to take back what he said. Which hurts her feelings for some reason. But he gives her that look. She knows that look now; recognises it from the other times she mentioned her boyfriend. Hindsight 20/20 and all that. Later that same day he takes it back again and tells her he meant it and he still does, but he respects her relationship with Teddy.

It’s frustrating and infuriating and it confuses her to no end. It takes an undercover mission and a further six months away from everything he knows for Jake to fully admit his feelings.

It takes Amy a lot more than that to admit hers.

[jessicakurr]

SURPRISE!!! :)

A/N: I had a great dream, woke up in the middle of the night, and had this fabulous idea to write a short drabble just for YOU, Melissa! Not much of a plot, just mainly smut, and maybe a tiny little bit of nutritional value. Thought it’d be a nice little break from my novel length Skipper fic, End of Time, that I have been working on for the past 14 months. I don’t even know if I will post it on A03 or ff.net. Just a little exercise. Practice, I suppose. I had some time off…and I’m single…sooo, here ya go chicky! ;)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything X-Files related, blah blah blah. Now let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?

Spoilers: Nothing past beginning of season 5.

Warning: This is NOT MSR.

Rating: Mature

Fandom: X-Files

Relationship: Alex Krycek/Dana Scully

Categories: Smut, UST, Angst, AU

By: Jessica Kurr

Summary: Dana Scully is done being the reasonable one, and Alex Krycek is looking for redemption. What would happen if their paths were to cross, and they chose to sample each other’s lives for one night? Would it change anything, or just cause more regret?

LIAISON  

Great. Just. Fucking. Great. Mulder was once again asking Scully to finish all his paperwork for him, after he had just dragged her on an unwilling goose chase across three states for a whole week, because he was convinced that Bigfoot was on the run. Would the madness ever end? Scully was tired, and in desperate need of a bubble bath, with a glass of Merlot. Or two. Maybe even three. No, scratch that. Scully was ready to do something reckless. Something that she would never normally do. Like, kill her partner. Or set the office on fire. HIS office. It wasn’t even hers. Not really. Granted, she did appreciate some things that Mulder had to offer…most of the time. But lately, it was as if he was purposely trying to piss her off. And it was definitely putting her off this week. She didn’t need this right now. And to top it off, she hadn’t even been on a date, or out with friends, in probably four years now. Scratch that, also. Scully no longer had any friends. Just Mulder. This was getting…ridiculous. Enough was enough.

“I’m not doing this. Not tonight.” She whispered to herself, as she slammed the folder shut. She then shoved the folder across the table, and the papers went flying in every direction as it hit the floor. “Shit.” She heavily groaned and sighed, while running her hands over her face. It was time to go home now, she decided.

Scully looked at her watch, and almost choked at the time. 7:03PM. Yeah, no, this was not happening tonight. Where the hell was Mulder, anyway? He was supposed to call her two hours ago. This was the last straw. Scully was going home, because it was Friday night, and to hell with doing paperwork on the weekend. Not again. It would have to wait till Monday. Or maybe Mulder could just do his own paperwork his damn self.

Scully quickly gathered her things, and wasted no time leaving that dim drafty basement office. Once she got to her car and put the keys in the ignition, she had a fabulous idea. Something that “normal Scully” wouldn’t do. She was going to the bar. She didn’t care that she would have to leave her car there and take a taxi home. Now, normal Scully would have thought this to be an unreasonable decision. But Dana Scully was done being the reasonable one. At least for tonight, anyways.

XXX

Alex Krycek threw back his last shot, and then tossed some money down onto the counter. He knew his limit, and he still had a job to finish tonight. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy, just because he was having a really shitty week. Or more like a really shitty life. This wasn’t exactly what he signed up for. Working for that cigarette smoking bastard. Always doing his dirty work for him. But he had almost paid off all of his debt now, so he would be free within another 6 months. That’s if the creep actually kept his word.

Krycek paid for a taxi to take him to a certain point and figured he would be sober enough to take his own car back home when he was finished in a few hours. He reached Fox Mulder’s apartment in no time and sighed in relief when he noticed that he was not home. This would be a piece of cake. Mulder never put a password on his laptop, so the files would be easily attainable. Dumbass. Krycek smirked to himself, as he picked the lock and entered the darkness. He looked to his right and noticed the bright green glow of the fish tank. Hello, old friend. It’s been a while.

Krycek spent 20 minutes thoroughly searching the apartment, and came up emptyhanded, surprisingly. What the hell? Where was Mulder’s laptop? It couldn’t have just vanished. Krycek ran his hand over his face and heavily sighed, as he paced back and forth. And then it clicked. It was probably at Scully’s apartment. Mulder must have let her borrow it to do his paperwork for him again. Lazy ass. Damn. Well, hopefully she wasn’t home either, because he was not about to go home emptyhanded. Not again.

XXX

Scully paid the cab driver and stumbled her way into her apartment building. She wasn’t trashed per say, but she was definitely tipsy. Drunk enough to not care about pissing Mulder off. But sober enough to still be thinking about how pissed off she was at Mulder. Maybe she would top things off with a glass of wine and a bubble bath after all. She made it to her door, after nearly tripping on her neighbor’s newspaper, and struggled for a long moment with her keys.

“Dammit.” She hissed, as she threw her purse down on the ground and leaned up against the door.

This was exactly why she never drank like this. It usually just made her emotional and more upset. Why had she thought this was a good idea again? After another moment, the keys were finally in the lock, and the door was open. Scully quietly shut the door and locked it behind her. Now she just had to make her way to the lamp without falling on her face.

Scully stumbled in the dark, until she finally found the closest lamp. But the moment her hand reached up to turn on the light, she knew something was wrong. Even through the thick haze of liquor that clouded her brain, she realized that someone was standing behind her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a heavy sigh, and she quickly reached for her gun, whirling around to train to her gun on the tall figure standing in front of her.

“Don’t move!” She hissed, as she clicked off the safety. The tall figure took a step closer, and Scully realized that there was a gun in her face as well. She couldn’t tell who the intruder was, but she knew that it was definitely a man. “I said DON’T MOVE!” She barked, and the mystery man huskily snickered at her.

“Or what, Agent Scully?”

She knew that voice. Where had she heard that voice from before? It sounded a bit different, deeper, but she definitely recognized it, and she knew that she had met this person before. “Calm down, Scully” echoed in her brain, and she quickly reached back to turn on the lamp.

Scully’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed in fury. “KRYCEK, you—you rat bastard. What the hell are you doing in my fucking apartment?”

“Calm down, Scully.” He rolled his eyes, with his gun still trained on her.

Now this sounded familiar. Too familiar.

“Don’t tell me to---I swear Krycek, I will shoot you, and I won’t think twice about it.” She glared at him, and that seemed to only amuse him even more.

“I was just leaving, after I get the files.” He drawled, while looking down at Mulder’s laptop on the coffee table.

Scully furrowed her brows. “What files?” She slightly swayed, as the dizziness from the liquor began to kick in.

Krycek cocked his head to the side, intensely observing Scully for a moment. Something was different with her. She was struggling to focus on him, and her eyes were glazed over. Scully was drunk. She had been drinking, also. Oh, this was rich. But he didn’t have time to fully enjoy the hilarity of this situation right now. Right now, he needed those files.

“Just hand me the laptop, and I’ll be on my way.” Krycek stepped even closer, expecting Scully to step back away from him, but she stood her ground. Damn. So, they were going to have to do this the hard way then. Things were getting a little boring lately anyways.

“You’re not getting anything from that laptop. I suggest you turn around and leave, or I’m calling you in. I’m being rather generous right now, Krycek. Don’t push your luck, or I’ll have your ass locked up in prison where you belong.” Scully spat heatedly.

Krycek stared down at Scully, as the amusement quickly turned into annoyance. “Look, I don’t want to have to hurt you. I just want the damn files. That’s it.” He tried to explain, but Scully wasn’t having any of it, obviously. Jesus…women.

Scully pursed her lips and took a step closer. Deep down, she was actually afraid. If Krycek could kill her sister, that was meant to be her, she had no doubt that he’d attempt it again. But at the same time, she was tipsy, extremely pissed off at Mulder, and now Krycek, and GOD why did men suck so much?

“Turn around…and leave.” Scully took another step closer, but a much smaller one this time.

Krycek had to admit, he was somewhat impressed right now. Scully was not going to back down. Alright, well then…suit yourself. He took another step, until his gun lightly grazed Scully’s. She was within arm’s length from him now, and damn, those blue eyes were piercing into him with so much fury, that it almost unnerved him. Almost.

“Have you been drinking, Scully?” He gruffly asked, as he hovered over her with a whole extra foot of intimidation.

The height difference was ridiculous right now. And Scully was definitely not the slightly chubby and soft spoken young woman that he had met years ago. She was now toned, and rough around the edges. He already knew this from their last brief encounter, but he hadn’t really gotten a good look at her until now. What has Mulder done to you?

“That’s none of your damn business, Krycek.” She said, as her grip on her gun momentarily faltered.

“Why have you been drinking? You don’t drink like this usually.” He asked with slight curiosity, but also with the intention of creating a distraction.

“And how the hell would you know that?” She paused, and Krycek chuckled and then blinked at her through his thick long eyelashes. “Ah, yes, surveillance. I should have known.” She said through clenched teeth, shaking her head.

Krycek loosened his grip on his gun and shook his head also. “I haven’t done that shit in two years, and frankly never really cared for it. It was just a wild guess.” He shrugged.

Scully raised her head up but narrowed her eyes on him. “Right. Well, like I said, it’s none of your damn business.” Her eyes involuntarily dropped to look at his feet for a moment, and Krycek’s curiosity grew, for whatever reason.

“Mulder ditch you again?”

He didn’t even know why he was asking this right now, or why he should even be the slightest bit interested in their tedious lives. Then again, he really didn’t know as much about Scully as he did about Mulder. In fact, he only knew what he was told, which wasn’t much.

“NO.” Scully cleared her throat, looking away for a moment.

Hmmm. Interesting.

“Bad week?” There he went, prying again, for whatever reason. Eh, what the hell, it was Friday night. Not like he had any other plans set in stone.

Scully opened and closed her mouth a few times before answering. “I---just what the hell are you trying to pull, Krycek?” She was now confused. Maybe she should just give him the damn laptop. She could say that Krycek forced her hand, and Mulder would believe her. She was too tired for this crap right now.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just simply trying to make conversation.” He sneered down at her.

“Nice try. Get out.”

Krycek looked to his left, shook his head, and then stared back down at Scully. “I can’t do that.”

Scully swallowed, as her blue eyes searched his green ones. And she realized that they were just going in circles. Someone had to give in soon…or die. Maybe it was time to beat Krycek at his own game.

“Yes…Mulder ditched me again.” She softly replied, licking at her lips.

Krycek’s hard stare briefly softened, and Scully knew that she just might be able get him to let his guard down for a brief second, if she kept up the conversation…hopefully.

“I don’t know why you put up with his crap. I could hardly keep up with it when ‘I’ was his partner.” Krycek droned.

“You weren’t his partner. ‘I’ was his partner. You were just using him.” Oops. She was supposed to be pretending to play nice. Maybe this plan wasn’t going to work out.

“Maybe so. But you still deserve better.”

That comment unnerved Scully, and she was now back to feeling more confused than ever. She tried to block the flood of memories from invading her mind, but it wasn’t working. And now her emotions were getting the best of her again.

“Yes, I do. I deserve to have my sister back, alive and well. I deserve to know what happened to me during my abduction, and why. I DESERVE my fertility back, and for all the shitty things that have happened to me the past 5 years to have never occurred. Which is more than I can say for you.”

Calm down, Scully. Calm down, Scully. Calm. Down. Scully.

“I know you think I killed your sister, but I didn’t.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I was there, but I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“It was supposed to be me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

“Yes.”

“And Mulder’s father?”

“Yes, I did that.”

“Why?”

“Because he wasn’t the person that everyone thought he was.”

“How could I possibly believe a liar, and a—a MURDERER.”

“Believe what you want. But I guarantee that everything Mulder has told you about me was based off of personal assumption and lack of facts.”

“Bullshit.”

Krycek shifted his weight and heavily sighed. “Ask me anything you want, and I’ll be 100% honest with you.”

Scully sarcastically laughed and nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll bite. Have you ever lied to us?”

Krycek smirked and nodded. “Yes.”

“See? You ‘are’ a LIAR.”

“Only when necessary.”

“OH, that’s rich.” Scully furiously shook her head at him.

“Did you have anything to do with my abductions?”

“I only provided an address. But I didn’t know exactly what they were going to do with you. Believe me, I was kept in the dark with most of everything. I don’t know much more than you.”

“Did you plan to kill me that night?”

“Yes.” Pause. “No.”

“No?”

“I figured that it was just a test, and that the orders would be terminated at the last minute. I didn’t even expect Luis to pull the trigger. He was a dumbass.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Like I said, Scully…believe what you want.” Krycek sighed with exaggerated boredom. “You’ve apparently already formed a personal opinion about me anyway. So, I don’t think that anything I say is going to change your mind.”

“I’m only going off of all of the shitty things that you have done, Krycek.”

“Here’s an idea…why don’t you ask me ‘why’ I’ve done all of those shitty things.” Krycek replied with slight annoyance, waving his gun around.

“Not like you’d tell me the truth.”

“I’ve been honest so far, haven’t I?”

Scully looked Krycek up and down and heavily sighed. “FINE. What could you possibly say that could justify your actions?”

“Debt.”

“Excuse me?”

“It doesn’t justify anything, but I really had no choice.”

“Everybody has a choice.”

“Ha, that’s a good one.” Pause. “No, I was put into this lifestyle at a young age.”

“Why?”

“Because my father owed someone a lot of money. And when he died, I was next of kin, so I was held responsible.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the police?” Scully wasn’t actually believing any of this, was she? Surely not.

“Because they threatened to kill my sister.”

Krycek had a sister?

“Well, why---why didn’t you tell us this from the very beginning? Why are you telling me this now?” She eyed him suspiciously.

Krycek sighed and looked away for a moment. “Because my debt is almost paid off now. It was too risky to say anything then.”

He was lying. There was no way any of this was true. This was just another Krycek trick. It had to be.

Scully realized that she had significantly lowered her gun and began to lift it back up to Krycek’s chest. “Nice story, Krycek. You should tell it at parties.”

Scully was suddenly caught off guard when Krycek’s foot came out and slid under her feet, and down she went. But what shocked her the most, was the fact that she didn’t hit the ground with a loud painful thud. Instead, she fell backwards, and was caught by the waist with Krycek’s right hand. She was able to react rather quickly, and brought her knee up into his groin, and next thing she knew, they were both slowly going down. Krycek landed on top of her, and wasted no time pinning her down with his thighs and hand. Scully looked to her left and saw that both of their guns were now on the ground a few feet away. She then looked to her right and noticed that Krycek wasn’t using his left hand. That’s right. Mulder had told her about Tunguska. About how he almost lost an arm but got lucky. It looked like Krycek hadn’t been so fortunate. Served him right.

“This little game is over, Agent Scully.” He hissed at her through clenched teeth.

Scully turned her head to look back up at Krycek, and tried to move her arms and legs, but he was pinning her down too tightly. His face was too close to hers now, and she couldn’t help but notice some features that she hadn’t noticed before. The few times that she had run into Krycek, it was dark, and she had always kept her distance. She had never actually been this close to Krycek before, alone. And she had to admit, he was an attractive man…for a rat. But a rat was still a rat.

“Get off of me!” She spat, while thrashing about as much as she could.

Krycek clenched his jaw and pulled Scully’s pinned hands up over her head. “Not a chance. Now, you’re going to let me walk out of this apartment, with the laptop. Understand?” He snarled down at her.

“Fuck you, Krycek!” She growled, before spitting in his face.

“You little bitch…” He growled back, wiping his face on his sleeve.

Then he was putting more force on her, until she finally stopped squirming. He was not about to hit a woman if he didn’t really have to. He could handle this, for now.

“I. Can’t. Breathe. You—you—” Scully gasped for air, and Krycek raised up just enough to let her breathe.

“I will let you go if you calm down and do what I say.” He replied, while breathing heavily. Scully shook her head in rebellion, and Krycek laughed in frustration. “Come on, Scully, don’t make this any harder than it really has to be.”

Speaking of hard…Krycek was taken aback by the growing hardness in his pants. Was this really turning him on right now? He tried to shift away so that Scully couldn’t feel it, but the way she was looking up at him told him that she already had. She swallowed, blinked, and swallowed again, but refused to look away. And Krycek suddenly realized how beautiful she was. Pouty lips, flushed face, with those big blue eyes glaring up at him. He always knew it, but never thought much about it until now. But that wasn’t really what was turning him on right now. Her stubbornness was most likely the culprit. He never really could resist a woman with an attitude. They had only been alone in that apartment together for 10 minutes tops, and they were already learning a lot of new things about each other. It could also very well be the alcohol that they had both apparently been consuming earlier, but for some reason he doubted it.

“Mulder is going to be here any minute, and then he is going to kill you.” Scully calmly said with narrowed eyes.

“Mulder ditched you, remember? So, I highly doubt that.” Krycek drawled through a chuckle.

“He—he didn’t ditch me. He just got busy.” Scully quietly replied, looking away.

“Let me guess…he begged you to go on some week long wild goose chase with him, and then asked you to do his paperwork for him, again. And then he didn’t call you like he said he would. Am I right?”

“NO.”

Krycek smirked and nodded. “I am, aren’t I?”

Scully looked back up at Krycek and blinked back the tears that threatened to escape. “He—he got busy.” She repeated.

“He doesn’t fucking appreciate you.” Krycek shook his head.

“And you do?” Scully glared up at him.

Krycek leaned in and shrugged. “I’m not your partner in crime. And I don’t think that you’d ever let me close enough to do so.”

“Well, we agree on one thing.”

Scully was desperately trying to ignore the fact that Krycek was on top of her, with a rapidly growing hard-on digging into her stomach, with his face only a few inches from hers. He was obviously trying to shift away from her to hide his erection, so she doubted that he was going to try to rape her. She wasn’t even sure anymore that he was going to try to kill her either. He would have done it already, right?

“Scully---”

“Go. Just take the laptop and GO.” She looked away from him, as a tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t even know why she was crying right now.

Krycek sat there for a long moment in deep thought. Why was Scully suddenly giving up the laptop to him? And why was she crying? And why did he suddenly not want to leave? He knew he should leave now. He really, really should. But when he looked back down at Scully, watching the tears flow freely now, he couldn’t do it. Dammit. Goddammit.

“I’m sorry.” He quietly replied.

Scully turned her head to look back up at Krycek and furrowed her brows. “What?”

“I—I’m sorry, for—for everything that that black lung bastard has put you through.”

Scully intensely observed Krycek for a long moment. She was suddenly so taken aback by his words, that she couldn’t figure out what to say back. So, she just laid there for a long time, looking up at him with wide wet eyes.

“Don’t.” She finally replied, shaking her head.

Krycek furrowed his brows at her. “What?”

“Just don’t. Don’t do this to me, Krycek.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He shook his head.

“Don’t put me in a position like this.” She pursed her lips at him.

“Scully, I---”

“Stop, just stop it. I’m giving you what you want. Now just take it and go.”

“I—I can’t.”

“Why not?” Scully’s heart was now racing for some reason.

“Because I want more than just the laptop. I want---I---”

Scully’s stomach did a little flip-flop, as Krycek began to stutter.

“What are you saying?” She found herself asking, even though she wasn’t sure that she really wanted to hear the answer.

Krycek suddenly leaned in, lightly grazing his nose against Scully’s for a brief moment.

“You’re right. I should—I should probably go now.” He grumbled.

Scully tried to nod, but she couldn’t. All she could do was stare up at him. Krycek was so close to her now that her eyes were crossing, and a moist warmth began to spread between her legs. Oh, God. Oh no. This was not happening right now. She was not hot for Krycek. FUCK.

“No.”

“No?”

“Krycek---”

And then his mouth was on hers, as his hand completely let go of her wrists and trailed down to her face. She didn’t give in to the kiss for a few seconds, but when his tongue came out to lightly graze her bottom lip, her mouth finally opened, and she kissed him back. It was hot and passionate and sexy as hell. Who knew that Krycek would be a good kisser? What was she doing? What the hell was she doing? And then her hips were involuntarily moving upwards against him, and her hands were in his hair.

“God, Scully.” He groaned into her mouth, as his fingers tangled in her hair as well. “Tell me to stop now, or I’m going to keep going.” He rasped, and Scully shook her head.

“Don’t. Stop.” She moaned.

They both kept at it for several more moments, kissing and moaning and grinding against each other until they couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bed?” Krycek hesitantly asked, and Scully nodded without any reluctance.

“Bed. Now.” She replied with another moan.

And then he was quickly lifting up off of her and helping her to her feet. Scully gasped, as Krycek effortlessly grabbed at her ass and lifted her up off her feet to straddle his waist with her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they began kissing again, while he impressively made his way to the bedroom without dropping her. She had a feeling that he had done this before. She wondered if he knew that she hadn’t been with a man since before the X-Files. Mulder had thought that she had slept with Ed Jersey, but in reality, she never did. And now she was about to sleep with her partners enemy. Oh, God. What was she doing?

Krycek questioned if Scully knew that he hadn’t been with a woman in well over a year now. And that there were far and few between over the years. He just never had the time or interest for all the drama afterwards, considering his life was such a mess these days. He hadn’t ever really had a serious relationship either, now that he thought about it. Just some quick meaningless fucks. So, why was he feeling different than usual, and why was he dragging Scully into his mess right now? Why couldn’t he stop and just leave? He was determined to remain in control of this situation. It would be over soon, and he would look back on this and laugh, just like all of the other times. He would look at Mulder, and think to himself, “I fucked your partner. The woman that you’re most likely in love with but are too blind to realize or do anything about it.” And he would purposely make Dana Scully squirm, every time that he saw her. If he ever did again. He would make eye contact, but never mention it, and she would look at him nervously, silently begging him to not tell anyone. And he would go to bed every night with a wicked smile on his face. Knowing that he was able to get under “The Ice Queens” skin. It was going to be fucking glorious.

Scully gasped when Krycek threw her on the bed, and then he was crawling up her body, his eyes never leaving hers. Scully had already decided that this was going to be quick, rough, and never talked about ever again after it was over. This was just a momentary lapse in judgement, and she would be sober and back to her old self again by morning. But right now, she needed this. No matter how wrong it was, she couldn’t stop herself.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, I swear to God Krycek, I will deny it. And no one would ever believe you.” Scully hissed into Krycek’s mouth.

Krycek quickly pulled away, looking down at Scully with amusement and intense arousal. “I wouldn’t expect anything different from you.” He smirked, and then kissed her again, so hard, that he was sure that their lips would be swollen and bruised in the morning. Good. That would help remind her that she was fucked by Alex Krycek, and that it wasn’t just a dream. She may deny it, but she won’t ever forget it. He was going to make sure of that.

“Oh, God.” Scully loudly moaned, when Krycek began sucking at her neck with teeth, tongue, and lips, marking her as his for the night.

“What do you want?” He growled into her ear, roughly nibbling on it.

Scully opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling in a lustful daze. “What?”

“Tell me what you like.” He whispered, as his fingers slowly trailed down the left side of her face. Scully closed her eyes again when Krycek’s thumb ran across her bottom lip. “Tell me what you want from me.”

God, why did guys always have to hear a woman say that she wanted to fuck him? It must be an ego thing. As if they weren’t going to have sex if she didn’t verbally tell him exactly what they were about to do.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fuck you, Krycek.” She glared up at him.

“Mmmm, tell me more.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Is it not? You don’t want to fuck me?”

Scully remained silent, as she continued to look up at Krycek with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to touch you---” Krycek paused, as he slowly trailed his hand down her throat, until he reached a breast. He lightly grazed his thumb across a hardened nipple, and Scully arched her back into him. “Here?” He then ran his hand down her stomach, her hip, and then over across the top of her pants. His fingers unbuttoned her pants, and then finally slipped inside. It was a snug fit, but he was able to reach his target, as his long fingers lightly brushed her outer lips. “Here?”

Scully moaned and sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. She desperately tried to not move, to not give any indication of her arousal, but it was inevitable. Krycek’s finger slipped in between the folds, and Scully wasn’t sure who moaned louder.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.” He groaned and shivered, as his fingers began to slowly move in tight circles against her little bundle of nerves. “Is this what you want, Dana?”

“Don—Don’t call me that.” Scully hissed through another moan. First names were too personal, and she was determined to remain as detached as possible. But God he was good at this.

Krycek chewed on his bottom lip with a chuckle and slipped a finger inside. Scully clawed at his arm with a loud gasp, as her hips involuntarily jerked up into him again. He slipped in a second finger, pumping in and out, while his thumb rubbed against where she needed it the most. And he watched with amusement, as Scully’s eyes slipped shut and her mouth opened.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He huskily whispered, and Scully’s eyes opened again to look up at him. “I bet Mulder never tells you that, does he?” Scully shook her head and looked away for a moment. “Look at me.” He demanded, and she did, with slight hesitation. “Do you love him?”

“No…I—I don’t know.” Scully answered honestly, as she blinked and swallowed for the millionth time.

“I don’t know how he stands it. All day…next to you…God, he’s such a fucking weirdo.” Krycek rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Scully arched her back up into him again, but he pulled back when they both heard and felt some sort of buzzing vibration underneath one of the pillows. Krycek furrowed his brows and slid his hand under the pillow, pulling out a little pink vibrator. He threw his head back with laughter and waved it in front of Scully’s face, which was now crimson and extremely hot.

“You won’t be needing this tonight.” He purred, as he tossed it aside with a smirk.

Krycek was not only extremely amused by the thought of Dana Scully owning a vibrator, but he wondered why he never caught her using it before during his surveillance work. Maybe she hadn’t owned one back then? Whatever the case, he also wondered if she called out Mulder’s name when she used it. Or if the thing had just been sitting there unused under her pillow for a while now.

Scully blushed as she watched her vibrator hit the other side of the bed. But when she looked back up at Krycek, he was no longer laughing. He was now staring down at her with sensual admiration. She figured that he pegged her for the fingers only type. And he would be right. She hadn’t actually used the thing yet and had only had it for a few weeks now.

“It was a gag gift…for my birthday.” She felt the need to explain.

“I’m more fulfilling.” Krycek leered, and Scully’s stomach did another little flip-flop.

And then he leaned down to kiss at Scully’s neck again. He inserted three fingers this time, and began to pump harder and faster, while his thumb continued to rub at her. Scully loudly moaned and began to squirm and thrash about on the bed. Krycek couldn’t help but grind against her hip every time she jerked up, and next thing he knew, he was moaning and breathing heavily with her. And he knew that if he didn’t get some clothes off soon, that he was going to embarrass himself.

Scully was close, but just as her climax began to build, Krycek pulled his hand out and quickly began to pull her pants and panties down her legs. He effortlessly pulled her shoes off along the way, and the clothing was quickly tossed aside, but he did not attempt to take off her shirt. Instead, he began to crawl down her body, and Scully held her breath in anticipation as he buried his face in between her legs. His tongue began to lap at her, and her climax began to quickly build again. And then she remembered who was doing these glorious things to her, and the panic began to consume her.

“What am I doing? Stop. God, STOP!” Scully yelped, pushing at Krycek’s head, and he quickly pulled back with furrowed brows. “I---I can’t do this.” She wheezed, as she covered her face with both of her hands.

Krycek pulled himself up into a sitting position next to her and ran a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you, Scully.”

“It—it’s not that.” She groaned into her hands.

“Then what is it?”

“Mulder---”

“FUCK Mulder.” Krycek hissed into the darkness. “He doesn’t ever have to know. I’m most certainly not going to tell him. I don’t really feel like dying right now.”

Scully sighed and kept her hands over her face. “But ‘I’ know. ‘I’ know, Krycek. And this is NOT me. I—I don’t do things like this.”

“Like fraternize with the enemy?” Krycek murmured through a chuckle.

“Exactly.” Scully sighed again.

Krycek slowly reached back and pulled Scully’s hands off her face. His previous plans were quickly beginning to sound like a bad idea. Maybe Scully was right. He was already being too gentle, too soft with her, and that wasn’t him. And the fact that he was suddenly somewhat concerned with ruining someone else’s life was enough to stop him as well. He couldn’t afford to let a woman influence him, even for just one night. It looked like this was not going to happen after all. Plus, the earlier buzz that he had was now long gone.

“I should go.” He cleared his throat, slowly standing up.

Krycek reached down to pick up Scully’s panties and turned around to hand them to her. She quickly took them from him and put them back on. And then she pulled her knees up to her chest and stared at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Our little secret, Scully.” He reassured her, running a hand through his hair and turning to leave.

Scully watched him leave the room and sat there for a second in deep thought, listening for the opening and closing of the front door. But she never heard it. And then she remembered…the damn laptop, and the guns.

“Shit!” She opened her bedside table drawer and pulled out her spare gun and ran into the living room.

Sure enough, Krycek had the laptop in his hand, and was ejecting a portable USB from it. She cocked her gun at him as he threw the laptop on the couch and shoved the little object into his pocket. Then his gun was on her as well, while they intensely stared at each other.

“Krycek, you bastard!” She hissed through clenched teeth, and Krycek looked her up and down with lingering arousal.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you Scully?” He chuckled and began to make his way over to the door with his gun still trained on her.

“You tricked me.”

“Well, maybe some time you can pay me back.” He winked.

Scully huffed with frustration and followed him to the door.

“You’re not leaving with that.”

“Sorry, Scully. Please don’t take it personally.” He narrowed his eyes on her and reached for the knob.

Scully sucked in a sharp breath and fired her gun at him. Luckily, the bullet hit his gun before he had time to fire back, and his gun fell to the floor. Krycek’s eyes widened, as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What the fuck was that?!” He yelped and shook his hand a few times.

“That was your payback.” Scully glared at him.

Krycek had to admit, he was oddly impressed. Scully didn’t even think twice about shooting at him, just like she said. And he was even more turned on now, even though she could have killed him. What he didn’t know, was that she had purposely aimed for his hand. He could only hope that she wouldn’t shoot at him again. But he was going to have to take his chances anyways. Good thing he had quick reflexes.

Krycek ducked and quickly lunged at Scully, and her gun reflexively went off into the ceiling. And unfortunately, half the apartment building was being remodeled right now, so she didn’t have any close neighbors that could hear the gunshots, except for Greg, who was out of town for the week.

Krycek was able to get the gun out of Scully’s hand, and she took off running towards her bedroom. Krycek removed the clip and tossed the gun onto the floor, as he ran after her. He knew from the very beginning that he was not going to use his gun on her. Not that she needed to know that.

Scully tried to slam her door shut, but Krycek was faster and blocked it with his hand. He shoved the door open and stood in the door way, heavily breathing. Scully took a few steps back, stumbling into her bed. She looked down at his hand and realized that he no longer had the gun. Why?

“I’m not going to shoot you, Scully.” Krycek barked through clenched teeth.

“What do you want from me, Krycek? You have your files now. Just go.” Scully huffed with frustration.

“You know what I want.” He took a step closer, but she could not take anymore steps back, so she turned and began to walk backwards towards the nearest wall. There was a window close by, and maybe, just maybe she could escape through it.

“Just take the damn files and leave, Krycek.” She half heartedly warned him. Shouldn’t she be more scared than she is right now? Or was she realizing that Krycek was indeed not going to hurt her. The files didn’t even seem important anymore.

“I’m going to ask you one time, Scully. Just once. And if you still say no, then I will leave.”

“What?” Scully hesitantly asked.

Krycek took another step closer, still breathing heavily. “Do you want me to finish what we started before?” He quietly asked, clenching his jaw.

Scully began to shake her head, but then stopped. She didn’t know why she stopped. But for some reason, she suddenly couldn’t say no. Krycek was just hovering over her, with his disheveled hair and wild eyes, and it was sexy as hell. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time.

“Yes.” She found herself saying, as her heart began to wildly pound in her chest.

Krycek looked down at her for a moment, jaw still clenched, and then looked away. He ran his hand across his stubbled jaw and then looked back down at her. And then he was lunging at her again, and roughly grabbing at her arm. Scully loudly gasped, as he shoved her up against the wall. His mouth came crashing down onto hers, and she realized that she was going to completely go through with this now. There was no turning back now.

Scully quickly helped Krycek pull off his shirt, barely paying attention to his extremely realistic prosthetic arm, and then began working on his pants. Krycek bent down to take off his shoes, and then he was back to kissing her with only his boxers on now. He pulled back long enough to yank her panties back off of her, and then she was only wearing her shirt again with her bra.

And then Krycek was lifting Scully up into his arms, as her legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He shoved her back up against the wall and kissed her again, growling when Scully pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. Her tongue ran along his jaw, and up to his hear, as she nibbled and lapped at it. They began to clumsily grind against each other, until Krycek finally whirled her around and dropped her back onto the bed in one long stride. They helped each other remove their last items of clothing, and then stared at each other for a long moment with a lustful hunger. Their trembling hands ran along bare skin, as their lips connected again.

Krycek spread Scully’s legs and positioned himself above her entrance, pulling back to look down at her. “Condom.” He murmured, and Scully pointed at her bedside table, which shocked him to know that she even kept any. She was obviously not that active. Then again, neither was he, or he would have had some on him. They both knew she was infertile, and that they were both probably clean, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Krycek retrieved a condom and tore the package open with his teeth, as Scully watched him. And then she was taking the condom from him and reaching down to slide it on him herself, as he grunted at the touch of her tiny fingers on him.

“Are you ready?” He asked, and Scully nodded.

And then he was slowly entering her with a long groan, pulling out and pushing back in, until he was fully submerged in her wet warmth. Shuddering, he stopped for a moment, until Scully began moving against him. They moved together, as the thrusts became harder and faster. Krycek eventually stopped for a moment, long enough to bend down and take a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, and then pulled back.

“Turn around.” Krycek softly demanded, and Scully obeyed.

Scully got on her hands and knees and Krycek used a knee to push her legs further apart. Then he bent over her and slowly entered her again from behind. He pushed in and out slowly, until Scully buried her face into her pillow and clutched at it with a loud whimper. He sped up the pace, as the sound of their gasps and moans and bodies slapping together filled the room.

Scully collapsed onto the bed, unable to hold herself up any longer, and Krycek followed, still pumping into her. He knew she was close, so he tucked his hand down between her and the bed and began to rub at where she needed it the most. That was all it took to send Scully over the edge, and Krycek whimpered as he felt her tighten and spasm around him. Scully violently convulsed and cried out, and Krycek’s climax began at the end of hers, as he shuddered against her. And then it was over, and the condom was off, tied up, and carelessly tossed to the ground.

They both collapsed onto their backs, staring up at the ceiling in silence. Yep, that just happened. And Krycek was suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt about it. He had to make sure that he hadn’t forced any of what just happened onto Scully. He had murdered, bad guys of course. He had lied and stolen. But rape was not something that he could ever do. And luckily, he was never asked to do it. Seduction, yes. But never rape.

“Scully?”

Scully closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Yeah?” Then she exhaled.

“I didn’t----you didn’t---this was mutual, right?” He hesitantly asked.

Scully snorted and clicked her tongue. “Unfortunately, yes.” She nodded as if he could see it.

Krycek turned over and held himself up on his prosthetic, looking down at Scully with wide eyes. “Unfortunately?” His voice slightly wavered.

Scully turned to say something sarcastic but was caught off guard by the look on Krycek’s face. “I---” She suddenly couldn’t speak. Krycek was staring at her with the most unusual facial expression. She had never seen him look like this before. There was a hint of concern and tenderness in his face. And it unnerved Scully to see her partners mortal enemy acting like this. As if he might just care, a little bit.

“You can have the USB drive back.” Krycek found himself unexpectedly saying.

Scully rolled her eyes and licked at her lips. “RIGHT.”

“No, I meant it. I can’t take it now. Not after---not after what just happened.”

Scully suspiciously eyed Krycek for a long moment, and then realized that he was being serious. “Won’t you get in trouble for it?”

Krycek nodded. “I can just say that the files were corrupted or something.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

Krycek searched Scully’s eyes for a long moment, and then slowly leaned down to capture her lips with his, in a soft tender kiss. Scully was now feeling even more unnerved. Just what was his angle?

“I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot, I suppose.” Krycek breathed into her mouth, as his hand grabbed at Scully’s bare hip and pulled her closer to him.

Scully gave in to the confusion for a moment, but then came back to her senses and pulled back. “This can’t ever happen again.” She shook her head.

Krycek immediately nodded and pulled himself up into a sitting position. “I know.” He sighed, as he grabbed for his clothes and began to dress.

Scully pulled her shirt over her head, not even bothering with the bra, and then slipped her panties and pants back on. She than sat there and watched in shock, as Krycek pulled the little object out of his pocket and tossed it into her hands. She caught it and intensely studied it for a moment, before looking back up at Krycek, who was making his way out of the bedroom.

Scully heavily sighed and quickly followed Krycek out into the living room, where he was grabbing his gun off the floor and sticking it into the back of his pants under his shirt. He kept his back turned towards her for a long moment, and then finally turned around. Scully crossed her arms, with the USB still in her hand.

“I’m going to go now.” Krycek murmured, and Scully nodded up at him.

Scully watched as Krycek made his way over to the door, and she found herself inwardly groaning and following him. “Krycek?”

Krycek turned back around and Scully was momentarily distracted by the little crease above his nose. Scully cocked an eyebrow at him and then heavily sighed, shaking her head. She uncrossed her arms and reached out to grab at Krycek’s hand. He looked down at her hand in surprise, as she placed the little object into the palm of his hand and then pulled back.

“Keep it.”

Krycek looked back up at Scully and shook his head. “Why?”

Scully anxiously fidgeted with her hands and shifted her weight. “I don’t know exactly what is in those files, but it’s obviously a lot more important to you than it is to me or Mulder. I’m sure Mulder won’t even notice that they’re gone.” She found herself shrugging.

Krycek chuckled and leered down at Scully, shaking his head, as he put the object back into his pocket. “I only took a copy. The original is still on the laptop.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Oh.” Scully softly replied, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. They both looked at each other for another long moment, until Scully could no longer take the silence. “Well, I guess this is it.” She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

Krycek leaned in, so close that Scully could feel his hot breath on her cheek. But their lips never touched. Not this time around, thank God…because she wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore of that right now.

“See you later, Scully.” He rasped, impishly smirking at her as he slowly backed away.

“No, you won’t, Krycek.” Scully crossed her arms and pursed her lips, determined to stand her ground. This couldn’t ever happen again.

Krycek’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin at Scully’s stubbornness. He knew she was only trying to protect herself and her family from the dangers that always followed him. And he knew that she was right. They shouldn’t see each other again. Not like this. It could also possibly ruin her relationship with Mulder. Well, in that case…

“See you later…Dana.” He said it softer this time, his eyes never leaving hers.

Scully blinked, swallowed, and blinked again. They were both doing a lot of that tonight. And this was only just the beginning…she could feel it. Oh, shit. What had she gotten herself into? She watched Krycek slowly turn around and exit her apartment. He exuded confidence with every stride. And before she knew it, she was calling out to him. Willingly inviting the devil to return.

“Goodbye, Krycek.” She murmured, clearing her throat, and clinging onto the door until her knuckles turned white.

Krycek stopped, began to turn around, but then thought better of it. He leered down at his feet instead and kept walking. Scully then quickly shut and locked the door once Krycek was out of sight. Her lips quirked into an uncontainable smile, as she leaned up against the door.

Maybe he wasn’t the devil, after all.

END

A/N: Hope you liked it! A short sequel of some sort could be possible for Tumblr in the future. But for now, back to End of Time I go…

@nightshade1013

[mashnotesofthemythopoeic]

Discussion between Penumbra and whalelines during the development of Fathoms Five, with some input from onpaperfirst. Retrieved from a time capsule; difficult to discern who said what.

The sick, angst-loving part of me really warms to this idea. This current of misfortune that runs through the bloodline! For some reason, thinking of it is making me want to read Hamlet again, but I think I'm just in a Shakespeare mood.

Yes, as a reverse-patricide, it's very Shakespearean. I've been in a Shakespeare mood, lately, too. My friend Mary is going to see a very gory Macbeth done next week down at the Shakespearean festival in Ashland, OR, and I wish I could go.

Who knows. In the end, it shouldn't be that hard to simply put herself in the position to steal someone else's death, like Fellig did. Well, then I'd have to ask whether Scully would ever DO such a thing. I mean, she knew what it was like for her, so would she really curse someone else with that immortality, and make them find their own way? (That's more of a rhetorical question than an actual one.) It's such an terrible thing to pass on, though I can't actually imagine her wanting to live forever-- who really would? For Scully, there's no life beyond this one, the here and now, but I just wonder what would finally push her over the edge and make her willing to pass that awful thing on to somebody else.

I don't know. Just spitballin'. Like I said, the answer may lie in physics or time travel. Say William travels back in time and makes sure Scully dies in Fellig's apartment, then Mulder and Scully never get to have twenty years in the love shack, William never gets conceived, and therefore never comes to exist himself. Talk about self-sacrifice. Now, now that's twisted! It'd make a great sequel, though, huh?

At this point, William thinks it's simply a problem of physics, and he's obsessed with solving it that way. Mulder doesn't want to talk about it, mainly because it bothers him that William is giving his life up to an impossible quest. (Sound familiar?) I'm into that idea, actually, but I think you need to have Will do or say ONE thing to make that clear in the story. Maybe I'm just dense, but in the 3x I went over it, I just never considered that that's what all the fuss was about.

What about the 'torch-passing' scene? Okay, I see what you're saying.

The fact that Scully parked William on the buffalo farm seemed to indicate that he was 'normal' or could at least pass as such. Remember, the mobile doesn't move at the end of 'William'. Hm, I guess so. Sarah and I were talking about this last night, actually, and saying that even if the magnetite had fixed those things about him (the mobile moving or whatever alien connection he had), there would probably still be something a little different about him, because consider the blood he comes from, and all the crazy things floating through Mulder and Scully's DNA. I don't know how that would manifest itself, of course, and this story obviously isn't about that, it's just something to think about.

It is definitely something to think about. What did you guys come up with? Scully has that branched DNA, and there's the black oil/anecdote exposure for both of them, miracle chips and miracle ships and junk DNA and whatever else I'm missing. I don't think it's a stretch to hint that the kid has one hell of a head for math and logic.

Yet maybe William isn't 'normal' - notice how he seems to have a cognitive sense that Scully hates the geometric sign he mowed in the lawn  - maybe he's psychic or even still telekenetic  - but keeps it to himself. Maybe it's another of those things Mulder doesn't want to talk about. Remember, Mulder grew up in a family where nothing was talked about.

It's weird - I agree with you that there should be some connection, but I think the ESP thing has been done to death, and something about it annoys me. I wanted to sprinkle the element in there, so that people could pick up on it if they were so inclined. Jesus, I'm becoming Chris Carter! In lieu of that, I just wanted them to be a very close family with a lot of mutual respect and sort of a clannish secrecy. That's their connection. The fact that William's going off to college doesn't mean any of this is going to be less important to him.

Wait-- why did Scully stop aging? She stays looking the age she was when Fellig stole her death, is that it? I dunno, it's probably the writers' fault for making Tithonus vague, in that sense, because clearly Fellig looked somewhat old, and yet someone had taken his death when he was younger, though younger could mean any number of things for someone who lives forever.

They never came out and say how old Fellig was when it happened. There were several major Yellow Fever outbreaks in NYC back around the turn of the century. Remember the photographs of Fellig? He was a regular Dick Clark, and so is Scully.

Why did they ever move to California, anyway? Because it was starting to look weird, back in Massachusetts, people were starting to comment on her looks. I think Will was about 9 or so when they moved. They moved as far as they could get from the east coast, and washed up in California. Scully's mother's in a nursing home in San Diego, I think I forgot to put that in. Bill & Tara are conveniently overseas. Matthew seems oblivious, but he really loves Scully.

She's immortal in the exact sense that Fellig was. Death came for her, and she closed her eyes. Fellig took her death. It seemed the perfect arrangement at the time.

There wasn't time to think about it - plus, when you're shot, all the blood rushes to that spot, and you basically pass out - (which is what happened to Mulder when she shot him in the shoulder.) Remember, Fellig was holding her hand. There was a connection between them. Plus, the bullet had passed through Fellig and into her, so there was some blood transference, meaning whatever you think that might mean. It strikes me that I like Fellig and you don't. You're trying to separate Scully's experience from Fellig's and I'm saying it's the same principle at work. Not that it matters, but of course everyone will take Scully's side. Fellig was deadened and lonely and morbidly depressed, but I felt like he liked Scully. Maybe he didn't think the same thing would happen to her. I don't know think Scully even believed in the longevity thing at that point - Fellig had hid her phone. She was barely conscious, let alone making a life-decision. Agh! My brain!

Mulder is sort of stepping out of the way and acknowledging that this is Scully and William's battle. Possibly William won't figure out how to do it until he's an old man and Scully's 150 years old - who knows - but finding a way for her to die is his main goal in life.

Oh, brother, talk about a sad thought! No wonder Mulder feels closed out of everything, because not only is he not part of the quest to help her die, HE is going to die long before either of them. Oh, god. That makes me want to hug him for a very long time.

I know. He just breaks my heart. He doesn't deserve this. He is so sweet and everyone loves him the most. When he came out and said that thing about Samantha I just sobbed. I had no idea he was going to say it. The kids love him so much. I wrote this story before IWTB came out, and when I saw it I was shocked by how sad that version of Mulder is. I know that's the real version, but in a way this seemed better, despite its latent tragedy.

I'm mired in the idea of "Just SAY it, don't expect people to pick up on it". (That probably has a lot to do with my improv training, incidentally-- the idea of being forced to say every single thing to make it abundantly clear.) It's not a golden rule, of course, and subtlety is certainly appreciated, especially in writing. I just find it hard to shut that part of my brain off, the part that wants to know every single logical detail of what, how, why, when, where, etc. So forgive me! :)

No, this is just because you're emotionally invested in this story. It's natural to want more and more detail - it's because you care. It's the same frustrating feelings you had about TXF, right? I'm happy to see that this story has your attention. It's a good sign, I think.

I love this conversation, too. I worry that I'm becoming obnoxious, but I should embrace that because it's a part of my personality. ;) I'm so glad you let me be part of this process!

You're not in the slightest obnoxious. I'm the one who's taking up all your time. I can't tell you how useful this is, sort of free-styling. I'm working a lot of things out here, and you're the sounding board. We'll get it all ironed out, and then release it on an unsuspecting populace. Mwha ha ha! Send me the quote! Do you have any of your improv stuff you can throw up a clip of? I bet it's hilarious. Okay, goodnight.________________________

<Let me address the biggest point first-- Will is planning to kill Scully?>

Yep. They're both scientists - so, actually, they'll work it out together.

<Also, is Will planning to kill her all on his own, or is this some huge family burden that they're all in together?>

It's a huge family burden. However, it's slowly become obvious that William is the man for the job.

<And if Scully can't die, and William is "normal" from the magnetite (which I...don't know that I buy, but I don't NOT buy it), how is he going to be able to do it? What makes him able to kill her when nothing else can? >

Who knows. In the end, it shouldn't be that hard to simply put herself in the position to steal someone else's death, like Fellig did. She hasn't got to that point yet. At this point, William thinks it's simply a problem of physics, and he's obsessed with solving it that way. Mulder doesn't want to talk about it, mainly because it bothers him that William is giving his life up to an impossible quest. (Sound familiar?)

The fact that Scully parked William on the buffalo farm seemed to indicate that he was 'normal' or could at least pass as such. Remember, the mobile doesn't move at the end of 'William'.

Yet maybe William isn't 'normal' - notice how he seems to have a cognitive sense that Scully hates the geometric sign he mowed in the lawn  - maybe he's psychic or even still telekenetic  - but keeps it to himself. Maybe it's another of those things Mulder doesn't want to talk about. Remember, Mulder grew up in a family where nothing was talked about.

okay, let's see...Scully is 56 but looks 35. Mulder is turning 59 in October. Let's just say that in Hollywood they don't look so mismatched.

She's immortal in the exact sense that Fellig was. Death came for her, and she closed her eyes. Fellig took her death. It seemed the perfect arrangement at the time.

Look at it this way. I was obsessed by the movie 'Castaway', in the sense that time stops for the man on the desert island, while time continues for everyone in the outside world. (There are several desert island references in FF, you'll notice.) Scully is on that desert island.

I wanted to pick up her story at the point when she's beginning to stop living in the moment. She's panicked, she's withdrawing, the walls of glass are coming up between them - she's beginning to see that she's going to watch Mulder die of old age while she remains 35. Who will she love? Who will she fuck? She's not alive, really. She's a non-entity. She doesn't exist, in the normal sense. She just IS. She wants her life back, but she'll only become real again at the moment of death.

Mulder wants William to have the normal life he didn't. You'll notice that he's the more nurturing parent, making William breakfast, etc. However, this whole immortality thing has proven to be something he's failed to find a solution for, whereas William is absolutely intent upon solving it, almost seems born to it. Mulder is sort of stepping out of the way and acknowledging that this is Scully and William's battle. Possibly William won't figure out how to do it until he's an old man and Scully's 150 years old - who knows - but finding a way for her to die is his main goal in life.

It's very much a greek tragedy, isn't it?

2012 is hogwash and you know it. Even in a 1013 sense, it'd be easy to explain away. Maybe the alien rebels have smoothed things out, or won their fight. Maybe it happened, but silently, the way it's been happening the whole time. Maybe it got postponed. All I know is that life goes on, the way it ALWAYS does.

You know, I guess all this deliberate vagueness is annoying, but it's always been my vision for the story. It's the way I want to tell it. You just sort of get this glimpse, and are left to sort things out on your own. However, these conversations with you indicate that I need to slow down and think all of this over, and present it a bit more deftly.

<Something had to have happened to have gotten her on this kick to be thinking about that, because while people told her this in the series, I don't think it was ever something she believed about herself. So I'm not saying it's untrue or wrong, I'm just nosy and want to know WHY! :)>

I see it as a slow accumulation - originally, she didn't believe it, of course. Slowly, it became the horror of never-ending youth. (I love the irony of placing all this near L.A. - the world capital of  never-ending youth.) She and Mulder took her chip out to see what would happen, and that was several years before all this. Nothing happened! She's still young and gorgeous! Some people would totally get off on this, but not Scully. She can't enjoy it for a minute. What is God going to think of her? She's like a mouse in a jar.

<<<At any rate, here he's as normal as a math genius who's planning to kill his own mother can be. Is this a question that will loom large in people's minds?

Unfortunately, I think it is! I don't think anyone will be expecting to see a grown-up Will, so when he does appear, and the alien invasion didn't come, I feel like people are gonna need SOMETHING to be a little off with him, something that gives credence to the supernatural shit in the series, or else it becomes an idealized portrait of family life rather than something that pays homage to some of the problems raised in the series.>> I'll have to think about this a bit more. I could make him a tiny bit supernatural, I guess. I wanted to make him sweet and bright and a little dorky and wearing smelly old shoes and sort of unexceptional at a glance, although he's Mulder and Scully's pride and joy. Someone, I think it was Kel, although I can't find the story now, wrote a story about William and he was this totally hot with-it confident James Bond sort of genius. I wanted William to be normal, maybe going through kind of an awkward stage.  

<She didn't instantaneously heal - it took a couple of days, but since both entrance and exit wounds were hidden she could get away with acting normal. Remember Fellig the day after getting knifed? He was sore, but walking around.

Ehhhhh. I just have to be nit-picky about this, I can't help it. Could she REALLY get away with acting normal? We're not talking about getting knifed here, we're talking about putting a giant gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger. This bullet didn't touch her spinal cord or her cerebellum? Okay, sure, but I'm actually surprised she didn't end up in some kind of coma for a while, or at least hospitalized with grave injuries. I realise the problems that would create to the storyline, so I'm fine with it not happening, i guess, but I just feel like she'd be in a little worse shape than having a squishy head. ;)> We'll work on this a bit more. I think you're right. Remember all those scars on Fellig's wrists? He did have scarring. Scully should keep feeling that awful spot in her soft palate with her tongue. She should have a problem with a little bit of seepage from the back of her head.

<Also, that's an interesting assertation, comparing her immortality to Fellig's, because in my head, they're two completely different animals. Fellig let someone take his place, and for his selfishness in not wanting to die, his immortality became a curse. I think, though Scully views this immortality as a curse (and I think even then, she only considers it that way because she will have to watch everyone and everything she loves die while she has to go on), it is not a curse, but part of a higher purpose which she seems to have been born to fill. What is that purpose? Well, I dunno, that's a big question that I'm not prepared to answer. But I think their reactions, and their bodies' reactions, to near death situations seems to be different. Scully still receives the reactions to her injuries as any normal person does, but she bounces back. Like that time she was shot and Mulder came and told her that the doctors said she healed very quickly from what was meant to be a grave injury. I don't think healing quickly meant overnight, it just meant that they probably expected her to have more complications, but that she was all right.> She was gutshot in 'Tithonus' and healed amazingly fast. 'The fastest recovery they'd ever seen.' But, you're right - she was probably in the hospital a week. If there is a higher purpose to Scully's life - and it's been hinted that she has some divine, Virgin Mary-type qualities - we're not going to discover it in this story.  Maybe there is no purpose. Maybe it just happened, because getting mixed up with Mulder obviously wasn't going to end well. Maybe Clyde Bruckman prefigured it because he prefigured everything. Maybe Fellig wasn't selfish, just trying to survive, like Scully.  

This is a great conversation, Jenn! This is incredibly helpful to me, getting it all out in the open and finding the value points and what works and what doesn't. And what is tolerable and what isn't. And now I'm off to watch a bit of 'Black Books' and then off to bed.

[snickerl]

The Return

XF Fanfiction

Now that season 11 is on hiatus, I hope the fandom is ready for a (sorry!) loooong background story about an almost unknown family member.

tagging @today-in-fic

He looks out the window and sees her sitting outside on the porch alone, deep in thought, her eyes fixated on something in the distance. She looks so lost and despite the still existing chasm between them, he feels the strong urge to console her. She said goodbye to her mother today, scattered her ashes to be reunited with her father's just as the last will stated, and he's utterly surprised about how deep the impact of all of this is on his own soul.

Charles Scully has been distant from his family for he doesn't know how long. Very long. The last time he had personal contact was when they were mourning another family member, his sister Melissa. She had been shot by a cold-blooded killer and the news had toppled the house of cards he'd been constructing so conscientiously around his family history and his reasons for cutting the ties. He had booked the next available flight out to become one of the mourners. Everyone, including him, was too shocked by how a young woman's flame of life had expired so very suddenly and randomly that nobody, including him, questioned his being there. And now he's in this house once again because of a funeral.

He'd spoken to his mother on the phone seconds before she drew her terminal breath. Bill had called him, informed him that she was in the hospital suffering from a heart attack and that she had asked for him before she had slipped into a coma. He had given him the number to Dana's cell phone and more or less commanded him to give her a call as if Charlie was one of his plebes from the Academy. It was a short, awkward, and one-sided conversation, reminding Charlie of the ones he used to have with his father before he turned his back to his family.

Being on the phone with Dana was different. She sounded so relieved when she realized it was him. Charlie could hear in her voice how desperate she was, how she was overwhelmed by the fear for her mother. She begged him to talk to her, didn’t order him like Bill. When her voice broke in the end, it touched a heartstring he already believed to be numb.

He can't remember what he said to his mother, something about why all of a sudden he was willing to reconnect probably, but he remembers the fuzz he overheard when his voice had obviously really caused her to open her eyes. He heard Dana's sharp intake of breath, he heard a man's voice asking his mother if she knew her name and where she was, he heard his mother say something but couldn't make anything of it. Then he heard Dana calling out to her in panic, the faint sound of the heart monitor indicating a flatline followed by his sister's heartbreaking sobs. Eventually, someone picked up the phone and talked to him. The words he heard only confirmed what he'd already suspected, feared even.

"Hello, Charles, this is Fox Mulder. We haven't met, I'm, uh...I'm a friend of Dana's." "I know who you are, Mr. Mulder." "Oh, okay, well...I'm very sorry but I have to tell you that your mother just passed away. My deepest condolences."

Charlie didn’t reply, he just killed the call without even saying goodbye, and when Dana called a few days later to inform him about the funeral arrangements, he didn’t want to attend at first. He talked himself into believing that he had paid his dues as a son by fulfilling his mother's last wish and that this was it for him, that he was through with his family for good now that both his parents were dead. Three sleepless nights and an earnest conversation with his better half later, he booked a flight to Washington.

And now he's here, in his mother's house, shaking hands with people he's been alienated from for a long time. The only person he feels slightly connected to is his sister who hugged him fiercely instead of clumsily holding out a hand like his brother. She thanked him for having talked to their mother, for having brought her back if even only for a split-second.

Dana's forlornness and grief don't leave Charlie cold, and so he opens the back door and joins her on the bench outside. He gets her attention by leaning to the side and nudging her shoulder. "You and Mulder are back together?" he asks to start the conversation.

"What makes you think we are?" Dana tosses over her shoulder without looking at him.

"He was at the hospital with you when mom died and today he's here, observing your every move like a bodyguard. He looks like he wants to wrap you in cotton wool. I'm surprised, that's all. The last thing I heard was that you'd left him."

His sister turns her head now and looks at him. "Heard from whom? I was under the impression you didn’t care to know anything about us."

"And yet, people have been telling me things."

"People?"

"Old high school friends. Navy acquaintances. Aunt Roberta calls once in while. You remember her? She's our father's half-sister's out-of-wedlock daughter. We met her once at a Scully family reunion out in Portland when we were kids. She was never really accepted as a member of the Scully clan but she has her sources when it comes to what happens in this family."

"Yes, I think I remember her. And she's telling you things about us? What things?"

"For example that Dana and her FBI agent with the funny name broke up."

"I have an FBI agent with a funny name?"

"At least Aunt Roberta thought so." Charlie chuckles when he thinks back to the more than peculiar conversation. He tries to imitate her Southern accent and her slight sigmatism which had amused them already when they were kids. "Charles, honey, have you heard about Dana and this FBI agent of hers? The one with that funny name I can't remember. It was some native flurry four-footed species with a bushy tail and pointed ears." His assumed voice makes Dana laugh and the unexpected joy he managed to bring to her urges him to continue. "She went through the whole list: lynx, coyote, raccoon...jackalope."

On the last one, her head turns slowly toward him and his ever-suspicious sister only needs to cock an eyebrow to make Charlie understand that she is questioning his story.

"Okay, I'm kidding on the jackalope, but I swear she mentioned the other three!"

"I wouldn't have thought, I bet if I browsed through the cabinet long enough I'd find an X-File involving someone named Jackalope," she retorts and her deadpan expression makes Charlie chuckle now.

The amusing twist their conversation has taken helps Charlie cover what he doesn't want to tell his sister about his telephone call with Aunt Roberta. For example, how troubled he was by the news of her failed marriage, partnership, romance, or whatever it was. The family had been discussing the state of her relationship to this man for years. Aunt Roberta once reported a 'friend of a friend' who was with the IRS had seen them file their income tax as a married couple. Those rumors coming from a questionable source were never confirmed and it didn't matter anyway if they were married or not, when a relationship fails it hurts, that much Charlie knew from experience. So when Aunt Roberta told him Dana and her FBI agent had separated, he felt an instant pit in his stomach. He later identified this as a mix of compassion and sympathy. He was sorry for his sister that she suffered from another setback in her life. He also doesn't want to tell Dana how conflicted he was when Aunt Roberta offered her new address, also obtained through rather murky means. He had declined and regretted it later on, because at that moment he had felt that one day, maybe, he would want to reach out for her.

Charlie doesn't fail to see that Dana isn't particularly generous with information about her relationship to Mulder, a trait which isn't new to him. When they were kids, she already hated being interrogated by her family about her teen romances, especially by her mistrustful father and concerned mother, but also by her siblings who, of course, teased her more than they really wanted to know what was going on in her heart.

Charlie wants to assert her now that they don't have to talk about Mulder if she doesn't want to, but then she picks up his initial question on her own accord and clarifies, "we didn't break up, at least not with finality. I moved out of our house about a year ago, but it was meant to be only a temporary separation. Mulder needed space to....ugh, well, it's too complicated to explain. We're both back at the FBI and have gotten closer again working alongside each other. Besides, he's still my best friend. I don't know how I would be able to survive all this without him."

"You call him by his last name too."

"I do."

He's heard the man his entire family has been gossiping about for years call his sister 'Scully' today a few times and at first, it bothered him a bit. Calling someone by their last name usually was a put-down, a means to create a distance. But the way he says it doesn't sound rude by any means, rather gentle, more like a term of endearment. And now he's just heard Dana call this man 'Mulder' for the first time as she hasn't spoken much during the service, and it also sounds so affectionate.

"A very special relationship you have there."

"Yeah," Dana huffs, "as if you knew anything about it."

"For someone to follow a convicted murderer underground, I'd say the relationship has to be very special. He's your son's father, I assume."

Her pinched mouth clearly indicates he's reached the limit now of what she's willing to share of her love life, and she doesn't hesitate to verbalize it either. "I don't want to talk about it. Besides, it's none of your business."

"Sure. Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. It's just good to know that you have someone who looks after you."

Dana's head whirls around to look at him so fast, he fears it might give her a whiplash. Her steel blue eyes pierce through him and an ice-cold draft wafts off of her. It gives Charlie an idea that what she's going to say won't be very pleasant for him to hear and the sharp undertone she spits the words out with strengthens the impression.

"Is it, Charlie? You worry about me all of a sudden? I haven't heard from you or seen you in ages. You didn’t care if someone looked after me after my abduction, when I had barely survived a gunshot wound to the abdomen, when I buried Mulder, or when I had my baby, your nephew. You didn't even care when I was dying of cancer."

There's going to be no warming up, he realizes with a start. No getting reacquainted first after so many years of separation, no holding back, no fence time. She throws the accusations right at him and every word feels like a slap across his face.

"I cared," he replies flatly, a bit shocked by the list of terrible things that happened to her. He's heard about all of them. Sometimes only years later, but he knows that she's been at death's door too many times in the line of duty, he knows he once had a nephew called William, and he's heard a lot about one Fox Mulder playing a decisive role in almost everything. He also was in the loop when she was ill with terminal brain cancer. His mother had told him, had left a message on his answering machine pleading with him to visit his sister at the hospital. It was the time she still tried to bring the lost sheep back to the herd. It was only after the umpteenth message he'd left unanswered that she gave up and left him alone. Probably to save herself from more hurting. Even a mother can only take so much rejection.

"Why didn’t you come to the hospital? I was waiting for you, Charlie! Day after day after day, I told myself that tomorrow you'd show up with a good explanation why you hadn't been able to make it earlier, until one day I realized you deliberately stayed away. I can't say it didn't make me sad."

"It would've been a sorrowful cause for a family reunion."

It's the only explanation he can think of this quickly, fully aware that it's a lame excuse. It's a pretext he tries to hide the real motives behind. It's not going to help him out of the confrontation lurking right in front of him, he figures. He sees the determination in his sister's eyes to get to the bottom of the matter and the bundle of questions she's been waiting so many years to ask him.

"I was dying, Charlie. It was your last chance to ever see me alive. Didn't this have any effect on you?"

"You didn't die."

Another useless remark. The fact that she didn't die doesn't lessen his wrongdoing in the slightest.

"No, I didn't, but nobody was able to foresee that at the time. My body was weeks away from shutting down, maybe only days."

He has nothing to say to this. Not even some senseless, placatory words. He's getting more and more uncomfortable. His pulse rate must have risen significantly, the lump in his throat is growing, and the air around him feels sticky. Beads of sweat start forming on his forehead, although the temperature is moderate and a light breeze is blowing in his face.

"Don't you have anything to say? Any explanation, any excuse?"

"There is no excuse," he admits meekly to his sister and actually the first time to himself, he realizes. Deep down at the bottom of his heart, he knew he was making a terrible, irrevocable mistake, but he never had the guts to concede this fact to himself.

"You're damn right there isn't! I don't get it, Charlie, your surviving sister being at death's door wouldn't bring you to put aside the family dispute for just once? Huh? Didn't it matter just a tiny little bit that I was diagnosed with a terminal illness?"

He sees the hurt in her eyes, the wound he caused that has never healed completely and still oozes.

How is he to make her understand that both Ahab's and Melissa's sudden deaths had paralyzed him? He felt strong and invincible having dissociated himself officially from his family, a family whose paternal structures of command and obey had suffocated him. But when his father had died unexpectedly from a heart attack, he felt deprived of the possibility to ever set things right. The family he had left was never going to be the same with its head being gone, the person Charlie had rubbed against the most. There seemed to be no way back to where he once had been. There had been no doubt that Bill would take over, moving upwards in the chain of command from being someone receiving orders to giving them. The friction that had existed between his older brother and himself would increase tenfold with their father gone, of that Charlie had been sure. And things got even more complicated for him when with Melissa another pillar of the family structure was eliminated without a warning. His place in the remaining mesh of relations was evermore undefined and Charles Nevin Scully, youngest branch of the pedigree, departed more and more from his family, even from the ones he never had a reason to be at odds with other than that they belonged to that particular family: his mother and living sister.

Charlie's sinister flashbacks leave him silent which leads Dana to voice her very own interpretation. Misinterpretation, that is. What else?

"You were of the same opinion as our older brother, weren't you? That it was all my fault. That only I was to blame for everything that happened to me because it had been my choice to join the FBI. A choice which killed our sister."

"Bill said that to you?"

"Yes."

"When you were in the hospital?"

"Yes."

"What an asshole!"

Dana narrows her eyes and furrows her brows. "That wasn't what you thought of me?" she asks, surprise evident in her voice.

"No. Never."

"Then I understand even less why you completely ignored my being ill. If a hospital bedside visit was too much to ask for, why didn't you call or at least write a few lines? Something. Anything. I was longing for a sign that you cared about me, Charlie."

He would like to tell her that he cared. He cared so much that he called the hospital every day to ask how she was doing. He had been able to convince a nurse that he was a family member authorized to get next of kin information. Her name was Estelle, and she reported to him every up and down of the course of his sister's illness. How she battled her way through the aggressive treatment, how the hopes everyone had pinned on chemo and radiation were disappointed, how she became a little less every day. He knew of the mysterious chip Dana's FBI partner had come up with even before his mother and brother heard about it. The last time he spoke with Estelle was when she called him the day the cancer had gone into remission to tell him about his sister's miracle cure. He cried when he put the receiver back into the cradle. A few days later, Dana was discharged and Estelle received a huge bouquet of flowers.

Why he can't tell his sister this, Charlie doesn't know. Instead, he gives her some other reason, one that is equally true though. "What good would it have done to rekindle, Dana? Tell me. Why get close to someone you're going to lose again?"

Her eyes wide and gasping for breath like a fish out of water, her indignant reply isn't long in coming. "Pardon, I'm not sure I got this right. Are you saying it wasn't any use? That it wasn't worth the effort because I would be gone soon after anyhow?"

Tears flood her incredulous eyes and Charlie hates how he is making things worse instead of better.

"No, that's not exactly what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, Charlie? I don't understand a word you're saying. I never really understood why we were estranged in the first place."

"We," he fidgets with his hand between them, "were never estranged, Danes."

"No? Then how come you didn't get on a plane and pay me a sick visit as long as you still could?"

Maybe it's time to finally be honest, his mind supplies, to finally explain his state of mind at the time. If it only wasn't so damn difficult to pour his heart out to someone he had taught himself to cut out of his life. But she is his sister, and back in the days as kids, they were like two peas in a pod. The two youngest Scullys were inseparable and always attached to one another. He owes her an explanation, she deserves to understand why his behavior as an adult differed so much from when he was a child.

He musters all his courage and clears his throat, then starts to explain, his powerless voice revealing how hard it is for him to speak the words. "I had already lost one sister, I wasn't ready to lose another. It had been hard for me not to be able to say goodbye to Melissa, but to watch you die, Dana, simply seemed impossible for me to handle. I thought that if I pretended that the family drama didn’t have anything to do with me, it would be easier for me to cope with the inevitable, which would be the...the, uhm..."

"My death," Dana supplies unmoved.

"The loss of my second sister."

It doesn't take her long to understand the essence of his profession. "So you're saying you ignored my medical condition to protect you from the pain my passing would eventually inflict on you."

"I know that was selfish of me."

"It was. Very selfish. Incredibly selfish." She hesitates a moment until she goes on, probably because it takes her a moment to grasp the whole concept, something that took him years to accept, and he sees it coming, she won't spare him his shortcoming. "All you saw was your loss and how you would have to deal with it. The situation I had to fight with at that very moment didn't even exist in your imagination. Do you want to know what I had to deal with, Charlie?" She doesn't wait for him to answer. "There was no hope for a cure but I underwent treatment anyway just to buy myself a bit of time. Chemotherapy made me vomit my insides out, radiation gave me gum sores and made it difficult for me to swallow. I suffered from constant fatigue and lost so much weight they gave me nutritional IVs so I wouldn't die from malnutrition. I was terrified, Charlie, I didn't want to die. I was too young to die, and I didn't deserve to die. I was so scared. I could've used you to help me through this, little brother."

Scanning his face, her eyes tell him how hard her struggle was, how it had taken every bit of strength she had within her tiny body. Charlie feels the same horror as all those years back when Estelle gave him the minutae medical reports of her ordeal, and he's employing the same whitewashing technique to justify his failure as a brother, only it was much easier back then to convince himself that he wasn't doing anything wrong than it is today.

"You had people taking care of you much better than I would've been able to. You had mom and Bill. Your partner."

He had heard from Estelle that there was an FBI agent who moved heaven and hell to be allowed to sit at his sister's bedside outside visiting hours, that he spent the nights either holding Dana's hand or in her bed spooning against her. Estelle had never witnessed so much compassion from a patient's work colleague before. Charlie didn’t have to be a psychic to be able to conclude that this man had to be the infamous Fox Mulder, of whom his mother had spoken so dearly during Dana's abduction, but his brother had called a joke figure unworthy of being in law enforcement.

"Mom's sad face only reminded me of how much fear and worry I had caused her since the day I joined the FBI. She tried to hide her tears from me, but there were days her eyes were so red and puffy, I knew she'd been crying until she stepped into my room. I was grateful to her for her love and care but sometimes the way she clung to me made it difficult. Mulder also tried to put on a show for me and acted as if there was nothing to worry about, but I knew him too well not to see the underlying fear. I noticed how he tried to keep a calm face as long as he was in my room but deep inside struggled with the idea of going on without me. I wanted a pledge from him that he would continue our work but he refused to even talk about it. He tried to keep from me that he was searching for a cure, breaking every FBI rule there was, but I looked right through him. He reminded me of a duck that floated serenely on the water but paddled frantically underneath. There were days I worried more about him than about myself. And Bill, well...you know him, he's not really good at displaying his soft, compassionate side, although he has one. When he said he wanted to come to terms with me, he just did not go so far as to add 'as long as you're still here'. He's never forgiven me my decision to join the Bureau. He's been more unforgiving in this than dad ever was. Mom told me that Ahab had eventually accepted my choice before he died."

Charlie isn't so sure about it. Their father could be very stubborn and unrelenting. He himself had been at the receiving end of the paternal pressure, they all had. Their mother had always been the balancing force and of course, she wanted Dana to believe that her beloved father had finally made his peace with her career choice. That Bill had taken over Ahab's role as her stern critic also fit into the mold of how he pictured the family dynamics from the distance he had been keeping so eagerly.

"I don't understand it, Charlie, we'd always been so close. I loved how you lived for the moment, how you looked at your life so differently from how I did. You were always so carefree and confident. I could've used your optimistic attitude to cheer me up, your inappropriate jokes to lift my spirits, your positive thinking to assure me that everything was going to be fine. I badly needed someone to distract me, to take me away from all these people with their worried faces and sinister forebodings."

He doubts he could've been this someone for her, given the worry and sinister forebodings he was hatching inside himself at the time, but he would never admit it. He's already told her so much more than he ever thought he would. There was something else though he needs her to understand.

"Danes, I may have been a selfish bastard...correction, I was a selfish bastard...but there's one thing you have to believe. There never was a time I did not care about you. You've always been my favorite sibling. I mean, Bill and I never had a lot in common. Being so much older than me, he always thought he could boss me around when dad was away. Melissa was fun and easy-going but too occupied with herself to pay a lot of attention to her baby brother. You, Dana, you were the only one who looked after me. Do you remember how you once intimidated some boys who bullied me in school?"

Dana shakes her head in disbelief as if his well-meant words don't make any sense to her, probably because they contradict his behavior during these past years, but he needs her to understand that he's always loved her dearly. The distance he put between them has only been physical, never emotional. The happy childhood they had shared wouldn't let him dissociate completely from his sister, even if he had tried.

"They were taller than me, and a lot taller than you, but you put your hands on your hips and told them to leave me alone if they didn't want you to give them a lesson of a girl's secret combat strategies. Your flaming red curls and fiery eyes put them to rout alright. You were my heroine then, today, and always."

"Your heroine?"

"Yes, my heroine. Geez, you never avoided a confrontation, never abandoned your beliefs. You were the only one of us who dared to argue with dad, and I adored you for that. Not even our older brother would've had the guts to do what you have done: choose a career against our father's explicit will. I asked myself if the Navy really was Bill's first choice or only dad's. You were the tiniest of us four but also the strongest and most courageous."

"Overpraise."

"Oh no, not at all. I couldn't have wished for a better big sister."

Charlie watches her with silent scrutiny and when his eyes find hers, a little smile sneaks from the edge of Dana's lips. Her voice becomes softer with every sentence of the childhood memory that leaves her lips.

"I was so happy when mom and dad told us we would have another brother or sister. I'd always wanted to be a big sister like Melissa. Mom told me years later that she had two miscarriages after me and didn't dare to try for a fourth child for quite a while. That's why the gap between you and me is somewhat larger than between us other three. When you were born and dad took us to the hospital to visit you and mom, I was allowed to hold you although I was the youngest. I remember that dad said it was Bill's right as the firstborn but mom insisted I should hold you, and of course, Bill didn't mind. He had his hands in his pockets the whole time to keep anyone from placing the fidgeting baby in his arms. Melissa was too occupied with the current book she was reading to bestow as much as a glance on you, so I held you the entire time. You looked at me with wide eyes, then fell asleep in my arms. Mom said that you'd been crying all day, that she'd thought you were never going to stop, and that from now on she would call me to help her soothe you whenever you were upset. I almost burst out of pride. I had fallen in love with my baby brother at that very moment and I felt that nothing and no one would ever come between me and him...until I was lying in a hospital bed, sick and scared, yearning for my brother to hold me for a change. And he didn't show up."

The way her voice breaks at the end is stealing Charlie's breath. "God, Dana," he groans. His stomach churns and he feels like he is being stabbed in the heart. It's not easy to be told so plainly how wrong he had been.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's alright. I deserve every word of it."

"Maybe, maybe not. I mean, I guess you had your reasons to distance yourself from the family. Seriously, how many fights did you have with dad about scholastic merits, majors, and fields of study? About the so-called serious sides of life?"

"He wanted me to become a second Bill Jr., one more son he could push into the Navy to follow his footsteps. Why did he never argue with Melissa like that? She wasn't exactly an industrious, determined student either, was she? When she told him she was going to move into this esoteric commune to learn how to free her spirit from the shackles of the performance society he only shook his head, shrugged and continued reading the paper. I didn’t get it. If it had been me, he would've given me an hour-long lecture."

Dana has to chuckle now. "She was a girl, Charlie. Dad probably thought she'd get married one day and left it to the future husband to put up with those silly ideas of hers."

"And he had you, of course. Bright, ambitious, A-student Dana at the onset of a career in either science or medicine. You raised the bar to unreachable heights for us ordinary mortals."

"That was never my intention. I just loved to study and I found joy in being the best possible in everything I did. I still do actually. Mulder can tell you a thing or two about it."

"I knew you didn't become daddy's pet on purpose, but you were, and at a certain point there just was no valid place for me to settle myself in. Bill was his golden Navy boy, you were the brainiac, Melissa had already taken the role of the black sheep, so what was I going to be?"

"Is that why you went away?"

"I couldn't do anything right by him, he was always on the lookout for mistakes he could blame me for. Mom always tried to make up for it but let's face it, dad wore the pants in that marriage. One day I realized I was happy and satisfied as long as he was away. The nearer his homecoming, the more uncomfortable I got. The family was thrilled about his return, whereas I dreaded it, and when you cried when he left us again, I had to feign being sad. At a certain point, it had become so obvious for me that I was an outsider in this family that I decided I would move out as soon as possible."

"And so you did," Dana states.

So he did. On the morning of his 18th birthday, he let his mother and siblings know over the birthday breakfast they had set up for him that he was going to move in with a friend. His father was at sea, luckily. Charlie wouldn't have had the guts to go through with it probably if Ahab had been sitting at the table with them. His mother was utterly aghast, his brother ridiculed him, the older of his two sisters babbled something about how one must pursue the path being offered, the younger cried, pleading with him to stay.

"Please believe me when I tell you that it wasn't you personally I needed to get away from, it was this family dynamic I couldn't cope with any longer."

"A dynamic I was a part of."

"Yeah," he sighs, "you were. It wasn't easy for me, especially in the beginning, but I needed a complete cut. It wouldn't have worked any other way for me."

"I hear you using 'I' and 'me' a lot, Charlie. Have you ever wasted a single thought about what your leaving did to us? Mom especially?"

He had. He thought a lot about his mother and it felt terrible to turn her down in her persistent attempts to reestablish contact. He can't explain what made him react to this last effort of hers. Maybe he'd realized that even if it was too late for him to reconcile with his mother, he didn't want to lose a third family member without even saying goodbye. Fate had been so courteous to him as to give him a second chance with Dana, it didn't offer him a second one with his mother, but at least he got to show her he still cared about her before she died.

"I did think of her, more than I would want, but, well...it's just that you can't make an omelet without breaking the eggs."

Dana cocks an eyebrow, a gesture Charlie is familiar with since early childhood. "Weird analogy here," she snorts. "It means you accepted you hurt her, I guess. "

"I'm afraid I have to say yes."

Dana presses her lips into a sharp line and nods slightly, processing his painfully honest words. "Well, thank you for taking the time to ease her heart at her last moments on earth." If she tried to prevent sounding sarcastic, she's not succeeding.

"Even at the risk of you not believing this, I'm glad I did. She was my mother, I owed it to her. I, uh...I did love her."

He's rendered his sister speechless for a moment with these last words. A tear escapes her eye when she finally says, "I believe you, I only wished she would've had more time with you."

Charlie swallows hard. His voice is small when he replies, "I'm sorry, Dana, I know I should've come back earlier. I should've been there for you, and for mom, when you needed me."

"You're here today, Charlie, and that's all that matters now."

They turn toward each other and after a moment of hesitance they hug, long and tight.

"Mmmm," Dana hums and the sound vibrates comfortably in Charlie's ear, "I'm so glad to have you back, little brother."

"It's good to be back, sis."

"You won't hide anymore?"

"No. I promise."

After a moment of significant silence they spend with Dana clutching Charlie as if her life depended on it, he breaks the embrace. To his dismay, the moment he lets go of her, his sister collapses. Her shoulders start trembling and when her chin falls to her chest, he hears the first sob escape her throat. He looks at her, not knowing exactly what she is crying about. She has so many reasons to cry. There were so many losses in her life she had to deal with, starting with a brother who vanished from her life without leaving a trace. Guilt crawls up his spine for having left her in the lurch for so long. He places himself right next to her, their thighs touching, and puts an arm around her shoulder. She instantly falls into him and the dam breaks. Her body is shaking from heavy sobs and soon Charlie feels his shirt getting wet from her tears. It's as if she's bottled up her sadness for too long that it now gushes out of her unchecked.

It takes Dana several minutes to recompose herself, minutes in which she's being rocked and comforted by her long-lost brother until the sobbing subsides eventually. She disentangles herself from him, pulls a tissue out of her pocket and blows her nose. Looking at him with red and blurry eyes, she manages a weak smile when she says, "seems you've returned the favor now."

"What favor?"

"To hold me until I stopped crying like I did when you were a newborn."

Charlie can't keep the sour chuckle down which is climbing up his throat. "Superb, it only took me 46 years. Well done, dude!"

Now Dana chuckles too, but hers is full of relief, not reproach. "Better late than never."

The sudden realization strikes him hard. How he wishes now that he'd been her rock also back then. Hell, how often had she stood up for him when their father had told him off, justifiably or not? How often had she covered for him, both in school and at home? She'd helped him out of more than one predicament, and he had only taken, taken, taken. He'd taken his unselfish, giving sister for granted and he'd never given her anything in return but his outright admiration and brotherly affection. As a kid, it had probably been all that could've expected from him, but as an adult in his mid-twenties, he should've had the decency and morality to swallow his personal sensitivities and shove his pitiful ass all the way from Fresno to her bedside in Washington to hold her hand.

"I'm so glad you got cured, Dana. I would've never been able to forgive myself."

In his state of harsh self-flagellation, Charlie fails to recognize that Dana's mood has already shifted from reproach to reconciliation. If he wasn't so self-centered once again, he would be able to read it in her face, in her open look and appeasing smile. She lays her hand on his forearm and squeezes it gently.

"Let's not talk about it anymore, Charlie. The cancer is gone, I'm fine. I've been cancer-free for years. We have all the time in the world to make up for the past years."

"What? That simple? You're forgiving me just like that as if I'm belatedly returning a book I borrowed from you? I failed you in the moment of your worst distress and you're saying 'let's forget it'?"

"If I learned anything during my illness, it has to be that it's no use trying to redo what's past. The past can't be changed, only the present and future.  When I was still in the belief that my remaining days were numbered, I struggled with what I had missed doing in my past and it was hard to accept that there were some things I would never be able to catch up with. Then a miracle happened and I got cured. I was given a second chance and I swore to myself I wouldn't waste it with regretting the mistakes I'd made in the past."

"You got cured thanks to a...erm, somewhat alternative approach, so I heard."

Dana's hand goes to her neck, her fingertips reaching for the spot where an implant had first been taken out and later on another one put in. He heard the whole story.

"Mulder's chip, well...it certainly led to some discussion with mom and Bill. They thought I was being crazy to even try it, but I had nothing to lose. And I trusted Mulder."

"Are you still carrying it?"

"Yes, I am. It seems to have kept me in remission ever since."

"That's wonderful, Danes. How did Mulder know it would work?"

"He didn't, but he is a believer. And he taught me to believe."

"What a great partnership. How long have you been together now?"

"More than 20 years."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it's quite a time span. What kind of life are you living, Charlie? Do you have a significant other? Are you married?"

"Divorced. Twice."

"Children? Any nephews or nieces I don't know of?"

"No children, no. At least no biological ones. Carrie, my second wife, has two boys, and we get along pretty well. Once in a while, I take them to a football game or out for burgers. They're cool kids, but it seems I'm not made to be a family man. I'm not good at playing house. I definitely won't marry again. I'm living with someone though. Haley. She's 32, a free spirit, artist. She reminds me of Melissa at times. She's very open when it comes to addressing my flaws," he adds with a grin. "She's good for me."

"Sounds wonderful. It's good not to be alone."

"What about Mulder and you?"

"We're not living together at the moment."

"You already said that, but will you again? One day?"

"Maybe," she says, and with a little more emphasis, "probably."

"He seems like a good person. Quite different from what I've been told by Bill."

"How come Bill talked to you about Mulder?"

"Well, you're not going to like it, but uhm...he wanted me to help bring you to your senses. Back in the day. I think by now, he's given up on the endeavor to eliminate him from your life."

"Bill and Mulder have never really connected. Bill blamed him for dragging me into this dark world of his, into his quest of finding the truth. He completely neglected the fact that I was a grown woman who made her own choice when I decided to follow him. One day, his quest had become mine."

"And you had fallen in love," Charlie points out.

"It's a very long and very complicated story but yes, somewhere along the road we fell in love with each other. I think neither of us can pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, one day we simply found ourselves being in love. When you've found your perfect other, you don't let them walk out of your life just like that, even though not everything is always perfect."

"I like him."

"You do?"

"Yes, he seems kind and decent, and absolutely devoted to you. He guards you like a mother bear."

"He's always been very protective of me, unlike what Bill thinks."

"He was in the hospital with you. When mom died."

"He was. I received Bill's call at a crime scene and Mulder sent me to go see mom right away, saying he'd cover for me. He came to the hospital later. He knew I needed him. Apart from that, he liked mom and was worried about her. She liked him too. She liked him a lot. Her last words were to him. I guess she said them to both of us, but she was reaching out for Mulder and looked him in the eye when she said what she said."

"That she also had a son named William."

"Her last thoughts were of the two people that were lost to her - William and you. She loved you, Charlie, despite everything, and she needed to know you were alright before she was ready to go. As a mother, she never gave up on her child."

He's surprised about the warm feeling spreading inside. Maybe as a son, he also never gave up on his mother. Maybe even if the umbilical cord is cut there's an invisible bond between a mother and her child that never ceases to exist. He thought he had burnt all bridges behind him but that obviously wasn't true. He's glad he made that last phone call and talked to his mother. It not only gave her peace but also him. He missed the chance to make full amends with her, but maybe she'd known what their last-minute reconciliation would do for him. A mother always knows what's best for her child.

"But why did she tell you she also had a son named William? She should've known you were aware you had a brother with that name. It seems a little peculiar to me."

"I don’t think that was what she was trying to remind us of."

"Of what then?"

"That we, Mulder and I, have a son named William too."

"Huh? She thought you forgot that?"

"No. She knew we missed him every day of our lives. She wanted to tell us to never give up hope, to keep believing that we will reunite with him one day, just like she had reunited with you after so many years of separation."

"Well, reunited is probably too big a word. I spoke two sentences to her. She didn't even answer."

"She felt the connection re-established, Charlie. Your two sentences pulled her out of the coma. The fact that her prayer for you had been answered, that you had come, even if only through the speaker phone, gave her peace, and she wanted the same peace for us."

"Awesome. I never would've thought."

"It took me a while to figure it out myself. At first, I was confused and even a bit angry at her. I asked myself why she had to remind us of the child we had lost. What was the use of hurting us? Only days later I understood what she was trying to tell us."

"To look for him?"

"To always feel responsible for him. We are his parents, even though he's not living with us. Mulder and I created this life, and for as long as we live, our obligation is to assure he's safe and happy. If it means we have to stay away from him, so be it, that's what we have done the past 15 years, but maybe the day will come when we can dare to contact him. She told us to never stop hoping for this to finally happen."

"With saying she also had a son name William she put herself in your shoes."

"She acknowledged my motherhood, something I've had difficulties with since I gave him up. She always saw the mother in me, never the woman who gave her son away. I can't tell you what this means to me. Especially because she disapproved of my decision to give him up for adoption, and very strongly so. She loved William and didn't want to lose her grandson. I've been told many times by people who didn't know better that I would understand a certain situation better if only I was a mother. Working at the children's ward does that to you, it puts you in a situation where you have to talk to parents making tough choices for their sons and daughters. The choices I made for my children-"

Dana stops mid-sentence, takes a deep breath and bites her lower lip for a moment, then turns toward her brother. "Do you know that I had a daughter? A beautiful girl. Emily. Begotten with my ova, carried and given birth to by another woman."

Charlie nods. He has never fully understood the whole story of that girl's existence, but his mother, God bless her, had written him a letter back then giving him the news of how her first grandchild had entered her life so miraculously and then left it again within the blink of an eye. The letter even contained a picture of a little girl that looked so much like his sister it had taken his breath away, but he had been in a phase where a lot of things were going on in his own life, so he had never really allowed this story to get at him.

Dana's eyes become unfocused and she looks beyond her brother to an image only she can see. Charlie is aware that she hides the full depth of her pain. To her questioning look as how he'd come to the knowledge of that other child of hers, he only answers taciturnly "mom". A fleeting smile crosses Dana's face at the mentioning of her mother, then she takes on from where she left a moment ago. "I didn't know Emily existed until she was three years old. She was so terribly sick when I found her. There was no hope for a cure, and I decided to accompany her on her way of death instead of prolonging her suffering just to have her with me a little while longer." The last sentences come out in a staccato without drawing a single breath in between them as if this was the only way for her to be able to do it.

"Jesus, Dana, there's been so much suffering in your life, so much pain and loss."

His sister heaves a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, it seems that my adult life has been one long master class in death beginning with my choice to go into forensic pathology. Fate would've had it that I not only studied death but gathered a lot of personal experience to add to the scientific approach. God, there are so many deaths, one after another, it's almost difficult to put them in a chronological order." She squints her eyes for a second, then starts the morbid list. "Dad, Mulder's father, Melissa, Emily, Mulder's mother, Samantha, Mulder, the Gunmen, and almost myself now and then. Now I have to add mom to the list."

Some names don't make sense to Charlie, like Samantha and the Gunmen, and he asks himself how Mulder made it onto the list, but he won't dwell on it. There's no use in deepening the cuts in her heart. His sister is a textbook definition of a strong person but where is her breaking point? When would all this death be too much for her to take?

"Well, anyway," she shakes her head as if to push the thoughts about death out of her mind, "what I wanted to say was that the choices I made for my children left me at a point where I wasn't seeing myself as a mother anymore. All I felt I was, was being the biological origin of two human beings who lived, or had lived, their lives far away from me with other women raising them. Mom never saw it that way. Every Mother's Day she sent me two white lilies and a card, thanking me for the two grandchildren I gave her. In her eyes, I never ceased being a mother, and I'm so grateful she reminded me of it before she left us."

As a man, not even a father, Charlie can only try to imagine what it was like for his sister to lose two children, and, to make matters worse, under such unfortunate circumstances beyond her control. From the way she so fondly speaks of her emotions connected to her motherhood, he feels safe enough to ask her a question that has been on his mind for a while.

"How was he? My nephew?"

Dana's self-containment is gone for a moment. She sucks in her breath deeply through her nose while her eyes slide closed. Charlie already fears he's gone too far, but then a slight smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. When she opens her eyes, they are filled with tears, but they don't seem to be sad, rather dreamy.

"How was he? Let's see. Hmmm, he was such an easy baby. He didn't cry a lot, he was happy and satisfied most of the time. As difficult as the pregnancy and childbirth were, it didn't have any negative influence on him. He smiled mostly, ate and slept well. He would look at you with his big, curious eyes and melt your heart. He was a godsend for a first-time mother."

"Did he look a lot like you? Like a Scully? Bill's kids all looked so much like him when they were babies, I almost pitied them," Charlie deadpans.

"It's what nature intends. Fathers don't share a mother's certainty that a baby is theirs, so newborns resemble their fathers early on to assure men they invest their resources in their own offspring."

"So he resembled Mulder more than you?"

He can't stop himself from asking the trick question. So far, she has spoken of her partner's fatherhood only in casual half-sentences and Charlie wonders why. At this point, he's certain that no one else can be her son's father but Fox Mulder.

"Well, he had blue eyes like most babies have and only peach hair when he was born, but whenever I looked at his face I saw Mulder, especially after he had to leave us. William was all I had at a time I didn't even know if Mulder still lived." Leading her yet again to a sad chapter of her life story hadn't been his intention but she seems unfazed and Charlie doesn't even have to voice another question for her to continue and eventually answer his question. "When I picture him now, I see a mixture of the both of us: a lanky teenage boy with Mulder's brown unruly hair and my blue eyes. I hope he's been spared the red hair, I remember how Bill and you wrestled with the color of your hair as kids. And you're dying it now, I see." She rakes her fingers through her brother's hair with an amused smile on her face.

"I've tried more or less every single color, I can tell you as much. It was green for quite a while," he quips.

The information makes her laugh. It's a wholehearted laughter, taking a bit off the edges of their sad conversation. "Well, you were far away enough from home to be allowed to experiment. Imagine Bill with green hair. Dad would've been mad as hell."

Charlie joins in her laughter and they both can't hold it, they laugh until the tears stream down their cheeks. It's a good laughter which puts an end to the heavy talk and lets them both cherish their togetherness. This is how it used to be between them when they were kids, light and easy.

Dana and Charlie are both so absorbed that they startle when the back door opens with a creak and Mulder pops his head out.

"Sorry to interrupt but there's an Aunt Roberta on the phone who wants to pass on her condolences to you, Scully. She says she's a distant relative, the second daughter of your father's cousin or something like that. She asked me if I was the FBI agent with the funny name. What am I supposed to make of that?" Dana and Charlie look at each other and burst into hysterical laughter, much to Mulder's bewilderment. "Well, I'm glad to see you're having fun," he growls with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Sorry for that, Foxxx," Charlie says, stretching his name for emphasis and gritting his teeth at the same time in order to keep himself from laughing. He gets up and puts a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "I'll talk to her."

After Charlie has vanished into the house, Mulder takes the now empty spot next to his partner and mumbles under his breath, "agent with the funny name...moi?"

She also tries to suppress a grin but is only half successful. "There's obviously been some talking about us within my family and Aunt Roberta has been adding her own anecdotal details to the stories."

"Anecdotal details, I see. Well, as long as she calls me funny and not spooky, I shouldn't complain."

"I never thought you were spooky, Mulder."

"Not even when we first met and I showed you the slides to our first case?"

"No."

"I can't quite believe that, Scully. Everybody thought I was spooky."

"First of all, I'm not everybody...." Mulder smiles consentingly, "second, I thought you were nuts when we first met."

"Ouch." Mulder's face contorts in feigned hurt for a second before he shoots back, "and I thought you'd last a week maximum. I guess we've both changed our minds."

"Who said I have?" she deadpans.

"Funny. Very funny, Scully." Mulder's face is empty now, whereas Dana's lightens up upon their banter.

Inside the house, Charlie isn't listening very closely to what Aunt Roberta is saying. He tries to follow the interaction outside on the porch and strains his ears to get at least some of the conversation. Casually, he tells her now, "stop calling him that, Aunt Roberta. His name is Fox, and forget what you've been told about him, he's a good person." It only takes his aunt, who's probably a second or third cousin or actually not a real relative at all, a brief moment to process this new information before she showers Charlie with more questions he chooses to ignore. His attention is again directed outside when he hears Dana and Mulder resume their conversation after a few moments of silence. He takes the receiver away from his ear to be able to follow what's being said outside.

"Did you two have a good conversation?" Mulder asks

"Hmm, yes, we did. A long overdue conversation, but a good one. I lost my mother, but I got my brother back."

Charlie's heart swells.

"That's good, Scully. I'm happy for you. He seems like a nice guy."

"He said the same about you."

"Seriously? Should there really exist a male Scully on this planet who doesn't hate me?"

Instead of commenting, Dana places a gentle kiss on Mulder's cheek. It elicits a delighted smile from the man who in Charlie's head had been an ego-driven, reckless, unhinged sorry son of a bitch destroying his sister's career in his stubborn pursuit to find little green men until he was able to form a view of his own on the infamous Fox Mulder meeting him personally today for the first time.

"What was that for?" Mulder asks, obviously surprised by Dana's gesture of affection.

"For helping me through this, Mulder. For being my friend."

"Anytime, Scully."

"Yes, I know. That's what I mean."

Charlie watches his sister lean into her partner, and he can see that he is so much more than just an FBI partner - with or without a funny name. She puts her head on his shoulder and he pulls her closer with one of his long arms. What a cute couple, Charlie thinks. This is how she's been able to survive all this, with Mulder at her side. That she'd been taken care of by this man while he had been absent from her life makes it a little easier for Charlie to come to terms with what he'd done wrong. He smiles and puts his ear back to the receiver, his eyes still locked on the display of human compassion and love outside.

"Pardon, Aunt Roberta? The connection is a little wonky. What did you just say?"

He listens to her babbling some more and doesn't deem it worthy to interrupt her flood of words, but then she asks him something meaningful and he's happy to give her an honest answer.

"Yes, it definitely was the right decision to come back."

[thetenderland]

ghouli

gillian acted the hell out of this episode and everyone did great work but i'm not on the hype train everyone else is.  it was good, but there is so much that keeps eating away at my thrill of finally meeting william/jackson, mostly the man of the hour himself.

overall jackson's character is paper thin and the strongest thing about it is, he is an asshole to people (girls, in this case) who seem perfectly nice... which, just, fuck that. so unnecessary.

this was totally a plot that would work better with almost murdering two bullies. bullies deserve that shit, not these girls that who've been manipulated and treated like dirt.  and why write girls that never push back against this asshole.

don’t get me wrong.  i’m not looking for william/jackson to be some perfect saint. i like complexity of character and i’ve seen fanfic authors bring such richness and depth to william (and mulder and scully).  but this boy is just such a mishmash of whatever suits the plot and mostly he’s a jerkface getting away with being a jerkface. 

obviously he's been a little screwed over in life, losing out on m/s as parents, but his home seems happy and privileged enough and his psychologist seems to think he's an ok dude.

and yet, he seems damn near a sociopath going back to talk to the girls, endangering them and then making out with both in their neighboring hospital rooms while basically meh-ing about his parents being dead. like, what?

overall i liked miles but maybe some of this is on him... i can’t tell totally.  his affect is fairly blah in that big scene but there is also very little on the page to tie jackson emotionally to anything. it’s a sad thing that william/jackson’s room says more about the boy than the boy himself.  (eta: another problem of the episode the boy of the room seems so different than jackson himself, nothing ties them together except his secret laptop of trolling.)

also, against the backdrop of his behavior, i don't buy that he was trying to protect m/s by not meeting them. (he did go to the girls after all.) to me, he was just running out of fear (which is, or theoretically could be, multilayered). but the writing fails us again, obscuring the vulnerability leading him to this choice.  the end is a nice moment as scully trusts an instinct and has a chance encounter with him, finally. but as he hides behind an avatar (or cctv camera), he is still very removed.

also: malcolm x quotes. this feels like the definition of appropriation to me, something powerful and meaningful from a member of a marginalized group(s) summoned but with nothing to back it up in jackson's actions or apparent ethos. the jackson in this episode does not deserve to speak these words. it's just a plot point so scully recognizes her son in his avatar.  (eta: 'If You Don't Stand for Something, You'll Fall for Anything' - what does jackson even stand for? aside from treating girls like crap? that’s the problem with the episode.  it’s also not just the use of malcolm x’s words but also the use of the quote itself seems mismatched). 

couldn't they have used a comic book or star wars quote? or if they were shooting for an intellectual, maybe bonhoeffer, something to avoid having it look like the worst kind of shallow appropriation.  personally, i keep thinking of spiderman’s with great power comes great responsibility, which has roots in the french revolution, so works on many levels. 

anyway. shocker that the x-files fucks all this up, i know.

other things: pacing was weird but that’s not a surprise when mythology marries motw. shrug. but what about the local cop? why even have his character when nothing meaningful happens with him.  why is jackson in virginia? why is jackson, jackson? did scully cut jackson’s hair for dna? isn’t that, like, not a useful thing to do dna testing on? how did scully not recognize the dude on the dust jacket sooner after mulder so blatantly points the book out? subtly thy name is not the x-files.  

and do our duo ever think this kid is kind of pulling a cerulean blue? he’s even got an “endurance drink” and why did this start two months ago?

also why do m/s never talk about paternal dna? i know why chris carter won’t but it is logical for m/s, in these newer, more-free-speaking incarnations, to talk about it, especially if mulder is suggesting what he is suggesting. 

eta: a few more positives.  i thought overnight about why the episode is as good as it is despite the problem of jackson.  a lot of it comes down to mulder and scully really being mulder and scully.  i’ve felt in the first few eps some of mulder’s jokes felt out of character but the jokes and all the dialogue felt right for him and david ofc is fantastic.  same with gillian.  this is the most scully i’ve felt she’s been since IWTB or even season 9.  so that’s something.  also i feel like the hand off of skeptic-believer worked well.  and it also didn’t bother me that she was so freely able to “believe”, after all it’s been a long time since the original run.  anyway they are so good together.  another plus, to give jackson some credit, he did not make his parents kill each other. 

[atths--twice]

Creating Calm

After the abduction by Gerry Schnauz, Scully is understandably not coping well. She needs some time off and perhaps a listening ear and an outlet to help bring about calm.

This was a story for a friend of mine who sent out a tweet in June. It took me longer than I would have wanted to get this one finished, but everything happens when it’s supposed to, right? I hope you enjoy it. 

September 1996

Scully took off her heels with a tired sigh and placed them into her closet. The dress she had worn to church and then to lunch with her mother, was added to her dry cleaning bag. Rolling her neck, she walked into the bathroom in her underwear.

After using the toilet and washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head, she sighed again as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. Hanging it back up, she went into the bedroom to get dressed.

Putting on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved plum colored shirt, she then put on socks and her boots. She walked out of the room, and stood in front of the hall closet door. Closing her eyes briefly, she sighed deeply.

Opening the door, she took out the large bag of items she had bought a few days ago and sighed once more. Picking up her car keys and cell phone, she walked out of the apartment, locking the door and continuing on to her car.

Driving away, she took a deep breath and glanced in the rear view mirror at the bag in the backseat. This afternoon would be the first time she tried out a relaxation technique Doctor Kossoff had suggested and she was feeling very unsure about her ability to do it.

After the case with Gerry Schnauz, she had sought out Doctor Kossoff, needing to discuss what had happened. Mulder had tried to get her to talk about it, but she had kept insisting she was fine. She knew by the look on his face that he did not believe her, but he remained silent, nodding as his eyes held hers, asking for more, but not demanding it.

Taking a few days off after the case, she did not speak to anyone, save for Doctor Kossoff. It was not just the abduction by Gerry which had caused her to seek out the doctor, though that would have been enough, but recent events as well: Queequeg being killed, the paranoia she had felt during the Patnik case, Mulder’s mother having a stroke, and other numerous stresses of the job.

Doctor Kossoff had smiled her usual smile, which had both aggravated and calmed Scully. Aggravated, because it never came with any words. Instead, she would wait for Scully to fill the silence, sharing why she had sought her out.

Yet even as she felt aggravated, she was calmed. She knew that though she hated talking about anything personal, Doctor Kossoff would not judge her or treat her differently. Going to therapy was hard and upsetting, but when Scully left, she always felt better. At least for a little while.

“Dana,” Doctor Kossoff had said at the end of their last meeting. “What ways do you find help you to relax and find calm?” She smiled and Scully stared at her, not sure she had an answer to that question.

“I… I don’t really have anything specific. I read-“

“Pleasurable books?”

“How do you mean?”

“Something you bought to simply read for pleasure and escape for a while? Not anything for work or related to it?”

“Uh… sometimes. But mostly it’s medical journals, which I do find calming, as strange as it may seem to some,” she had answered with a shrug and a slight smile. “Agent Mulder, for one, always makes a comment that I sure know how to ‘live it up.’ She had chuckled softly and shaken her head.

“Well, that is your field of expertise. And as a therapist, I understand. It’s of interest to you.” Doctor Kossoff had said with a kind smile. “But, I mean more of something you may not consider to be the norm? Do you play any sports? An endorphin rush sometimes can bring us relaxation in its own way. Or maybe you write or paint?”

Scully had looked at Doctor Kossoff, her eyebrows raised, the question remaining unanswered.

“I… I exercise, yes, but I don’t find it relaxing as much as a necessity.” She had shrugged and Doctor Kossoff nodded. “As for writing or painting… I do have a journal, a few actually. But again, it almost feels like something I need to do; my thoughts too crowded at times.”

“Understandable,” Doctor Kossoff had said, smiling kindly once again.

“Painting however,” Scully had said as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders again. “That’s not a strength I possess.”

“It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. It’s more of a way to turn your brain off. To relax and focus on what’s in front of you.” Scully had nodded and said she would try it and see if it helped.

On her way home from the appointment, she had stopped at a local craft store. Walking through the aisles, she had breathed in the scent of paints, oils, and canvas. Oddly enough, for someone who was not artistically inclined, she had found the place and the scents very relaxing.

Deciding on a pack of small canvases, she had continued to the paintbrushes, taking her time to find the ones she had liked best. The paints were next and she had been drawn to names like: burnt umber, yellow sunrise, hills of green, ocean blue, mocha brown, black noir, and rusty red. Nodding, she had added many different colors to her cart. Looking at everything she had picked out, she had  taken a deep breath, before pushing her cart to the register.

The supplies had sat in the closet for the past couple of days, something she thought about, but had not attempted. Tomorrow was her first day back at work and so today was the day.  

There was a park near her place which she would visit sometimes; a park with a decent sized man-made pond and many benches and picnic tables. She had sat on one bench in particular many times when she needed to get away and think, her apartment feeling far too suffocating.

What better place than that to try this out? she thought, although she still felt she would be terrible at this task. You have no artistic ability, Dana. This is going to be a disaster.

Arriving at the park, she turned off the ignition and looked around. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and there were not many people around, of which she was thankful.

“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled.

Stepping out of the car, she closed her door and open the back one, taking out the large bag of supplies. The car locked, she made her way over to the benches and picnic tables. Placing her bag down on an empty table, she set the portable easel she had bought beside it.

Opening it up, she sighed as she looked at the paint and brushes inside. Looking out towards the pond she nodded her head.

Setting up the easel, she took out a small canvas, and placed it on the stand. Bottles of water, a cup, a rag, and the palette were placed on the table and she took a deep breath.

Remembering Doctor Kossoff words, she took out the tubes of acrylic paints, laying them all in a row. The blank canvas seemed to mock her, waiting to see what she would try to create.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, beginning to put the paints away, knowing she would never be able to do this properly. No chance she could find any peace if she was already anxious about making a mistake.

But then, a man walked by, carrying the same type of small easel in his hand that she had purchased. He nodded slightly at her and placed his things on the table ahead and to the left of her. He laid out his supplies and added paint to his palette. Within minutes he was painting with such confidence, she knew she could not give up so easily.

Thinking of what had always brought her calm, she began to add paint to her palette. Taking out the paintbrushes, she chose a larger one, intent on covering most of the top with a rich orange.

As she placed the brush on the canvas and heard the bristles moving across it, something happened. It was as though her mind shut off as she focused only on the colors, finding just the right one, and then blending them to create a new one before adding it to the canvas.

“That’s a real nice painting.” She heard and she jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It was the man who had arrived and passed her earlier. He was now carrying his items in his hand, obviously finished and heading back for the day.

“Oh, not at all. I… I guess I was more focused than I thought,” she said with a smile as she set down her paintbrush. “Thank you. It’s… it’s nothing really. I…” She shrugged and looked at her painting.

“Is this your first time painting?”

“Other than when I was a child, yeah. My uh… my job is difficult,” she said with a forced chuckle. “A… friend suggested painting as a way to relax. I was actually thinking of leaving when you showed up.” She smiled at him and he looked down with a smile and a nod. “How about you? Have you been painting long?”

“Oh, no. I’ve been doing it for awhile. Sometimes it’s for just a bit, like today, or sometimes longer, when I need extra time away. It’s something I do to, as you said, help me to relax.” He smiled again and she nodded. “But, if this is your first… grown-up painting?” She chuckled and he shrugged with another smile. “It looks good. You did a good job.”

“Thank you,”she said again and he hummed, walking away and leaving her alone in the park.

Looking back at her painting, she tried to see it through his eyes and not focus on the areas she knew held mistakes. It was pretty good, if not rather basic.

Orange, yellow, red, blue, and green, were all combined to create a sunset upon the water. Where… she was not sure, but felt it was from memories of being at the beach as a child and then as she grew up, when she could appreciate it better.

Smiling, she nodded. It was not perfect but she had felt relaxed as she painted it. At her next meeting with Doctor Kossoff, she would have to admit she had been right.

Setting the canvas down onto the table, she set another one in its place. This time she painted with no plan in mind, simply adding color to an empty canvas.

As the sun began to set in earnest, she had three paint covered canvases lying on the table. Her hands had paint on them and there was a small streak of purple across the bottom of her left cheek. She was unaware of it however, as she stared at her paintings.

They were not anything that would be hung in the museum, but she had enjoyed the time she has been painting them. Sitting still, was not really her thing, but she had liked it. Her recent worries and thoughts had disappeared as the brush stroked across the canvas. The sounds of nature around her had helped as well and she felt better than she had in awhile.

Taking a deep breath, she packed up, rinsing off the brushes, wiping them dry and placing them back into the easel. The paints were added and she used the rag to wipe the palette, planning to wash both later at home. Once it was all packed up,  she tested the last painting to be sure it was dry.

“Nearly,” she whispered and took another deep breath, looking around the park as the sun disappeared entirely. “I’ll just carry it.”

Gathering up all of her things, she walked out of the park and back to her car.

Arriving at home, she put the supplies away and laid the paintings on the table. Staring at them, she shook her head, still seeing the mistakes beneath the beauty. Sighing, she stepped away and went into the bathroom to start a much needed bath.

Undressing, she caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled as she wiped at the purple paint on her cheek. Pinning up her hair, she stepped into the tub, and sighed in relief, letting the warm water and the calming scent of lavender wash over her.

The phone rang as she stood in her underwear in front of the open dresser drawer and she knew it was Mulder. Not having spoken for a few days, knowing tomorrow she would be back, of course he would want to check in on her ahead of time.

“Scully,” she said, as she picked up the phone and walked back to the dresser, and heard him sigh.

“Hey, Scully,” he said quietly.

“Mulder. Hello.” She smiled as she waited, her hand on her blue satin pajama set.

“Have you eaten? Are you hungry?” She heard the hesitancy in his voice and she smiled.  

“I haven’t actually. Did you have something particular in mind?” she asked, as she closed the pajama drawer and reached for pants instead. If he wanted her to meet him somewhere, she should be properly dressed.

“Welllll…” He trailed off as she heard a knock at the door and she exhaled a small chuckle.

Slipping on her pants, she quickly put on a bra, and grabbed a shirt as she walked out of the bedroom, sliding it over her head before she opened the door. She smiled at him as he stood in the hallway in jeans and a dark blue sweater, his phone still at his ear and a bag of Chinese food, which caused her mouth to water, hanging from his arm.

“How do you feel about some Chinese?” he asked sheepishly, hanging up the phone, and she smiled with a shrug.  

“That would be okay, I guess.” Her stomach growled loudly and her eyes widened as she finished her sentence. His eyebrows shot up and she put a hand on her stomach.

“More than okay it seems,” he said with a chuckle, and she stepped aside to let him enter.

“I got the usual and…” She turned her head as she closed the door, to see why he had stopped talking, and saw what had caught his attention.

He was staring at her paintings on the table.

Shit… she thought, freezing before stepping forward to collect them from the table. He stopped her with a hand on her wrist, holding it lightly.

“Did you… did you paint these?” he asked her softly, staring at the paintings.

“It’s nothing. Let me move them.” She moved her hand from his grasp and picked up the paintings. He said nothing as she put them on the couch and walked back to the table.

He caught her eye and her stare was enough to propel him into action. He began to take out cartons of food and place them on the table. He turned to reach for the plates as she took out the water pitcher from the fridge and set it on the table. She added silverware as he sat down and placed two glasses on the table beside the plates.

Their plates were filled and they settled into comfortable silence, but she knew he was still thinking about the paintings. He kept glancing at her and she knew he was biding his time.

“So you… uh… the time off has been good?” he asked and she looked up at him, finding nothing but concern in his eyes.

“It has. I’ve um…” she said softly, her head down and her eyes on the table. “I… there’s been a lot that’s happened recently and I…” She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes briefly.

“Including Gerry?” he asked quietly and she opened her eyes, his own searching her face and she shook her head. He sighed, his eyes becoming harder at her denial once again and she sighed with a shake of her head.

“It’s not just that… Yes, he was the reason I took some time off, but it’s not just him. Although his name has come up most,” she said and then realized what she had done.

“Come up?” he asked and she exhaled deeply.

“I’ve been talking to Doctor Kossoff the past few days.” She kept her eyes on his and she watched them change again. His shoulders fell and he dropped his head.

“I wasn’t coping like I should have… and she was helpful the last time I spoke to her. So…” She finished with a shrug and a sigh and he raised his head, looking at her and searching her face.

“Did it help? Seeing her, I mean?” he asked quietly and she nodded slightly. He nodded back, glancing toward the couch, and she knew he was putting the pieces together.

“It wasn’t just because of the case with Gerry,” she said again and he nodded, looking back at her.

“We have a stressful job,” he said softly and she nodded, placing her folded hands onto the table and looking down. “Can I see them again?” Looking up, she stared at him, his eyes so open.

“Why?” she asked, just as softly. He smiled and stood up, glancing toward the couch again, and then looking back at her, waiting for her permission. She nodded and stood up, following him to the couch.

“They aren’t… it’s just…” She shrugged as he picked one up; the first one she had made. Watching him look at it, she felt nervous, as though she were seeking his approval.

“I like this one,” he said with a smile and she looked back at the painting.

“Thank you, but… it’s just…” She tried to take it from him, but he stopped her. When she looked at him, he smiled.

“It’s not just, Scully. I really like it. The use of colors… the richness of them coming together… it’s very calming. You did a really good job.” He continued staring at it, his eyes traveling across it, stopping in areas, and brushing his thumbs across the canvas.

“I feel like I’ve been here before… that’s weird right?” He smiled at her and she gave him a small smile in return.

“It’s nowhere in particular so… maybe you have.” She shrugged with a light chuckle.

“Can I have this?”

“What? Why would you want it?” she asked with a scoff. He looked at her and frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I? I like it, as I have already stated. It’s calming. And you made it. You made it… in an attempt to feel better after…” He looked at her and sighed, his mouth opening and closing, but no further words spoken.

“Well… I still see the mistakes I made and…”

“Stop,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Any imperfections you may see, I don’t. And even if I did, I am an intelligent enough man to know not to say anything.” He smiled gently and she smiled back. “So can I have it?”

“You can have it,” she agreed quietly with a shrug. He nodded with a happy smile and looked at the painting again. She watched his expression change, the calm of the painting diminishing, and she knew what he was now thinking about, as it was a fear they both shared. What if her picture had come true and no one had been able to find her in time?

Her heart began to pound and her breathing increased, the fear overtaking her. But then he cleared his throat, looking at her again, his eyes holding hers. He gave her a small smile and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and attempted a smile of her own. It was a bit wobbly, but he seemed to understand.

He brought the painting back to the table, and set it down on a chair, as they began to silently clean up their meal and put away the leftovers.

Glancing at her as they finished, he smiled as he picked up the painting. At the door, he turned around, asking one last time without words, if she was okay. She nodded with a small smile, letting him know she was, or on the path to getting there at least, and he nodded back.

“See you tomorrow, Scully,” he said softly and she let out a breath.

“Tomorrow, Mulder.”

He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him and she walked over to lock it. Turning off the lights, she picked up her two other paintings, and brought them into her bedroom.

Propping them up on the dresser, she changed into the pajamas she had been planning to wear earlier. After using the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she got into bed and sighed.

The light from outside shone through the window and landed on the paintings. She stared at them, remembering the calm she had felt when she was painting in the park. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, the bad dreams, for that night, held at bay.

Yes, she would definitely need to tell Doctor Kossoff that her advice had been beneficial.

For both of them…