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The Country Club, Friday, August 12, 11:28 p.m.
Special Agent Dana Scully was having a bad day. Sitting in a noisy, smoke-filled bar in the middle of Texas, she realized she stuck out like a sour thumb. Her jeans were too new, the Tony Lamas on her feet were rubbing against her ankles,the shirt she wore itched, and her hair was not nearly as high as the women who stood at the bar counter, flirting with the steer busters and rodeo clowns. Yet, there was not much she could do except sit at the tiny table in the dark corner and wish her partner, Fox Mulder, a slow and agonizing death.
He had suggested they take this case. A mass murderer terrorizing bars like this one, picking up women and then slicing their throats. It would be fun, he had said, charming her with his devilish grin.
So, here she was, sitting in this dirty little place, drinking hot beer and listening to the earthshattering band play
at decibels she was sure set off the earthquake in these parts years before. Yeah, this was fun, she thought. Mulder had taken off for the back rooms a half hour before, right after their prime suspect had hauled his huge body through the bar's doors and settled his hulking mass at the bar counter.
She was watching him carefully when he swung around to face her. She quickly averted her head, but she knew he had seen her observe him. *Mulder, get your damn ass back in here,* she thought to herself. Just as she looked back to the area her partner had disappeared to, he emerged with a new friend draped over his body.
"Hi, Scully, hope you weren't worried," he said as he settled into his chair. Scully glared. Mulder's behavior had
deteriorated in to past few months. This was not the first time he had gone off to get his kicks during a stakeout. Mulder was not taken the fact that she was leaving very well.
"Mulder, I need to talk to you," she said. "ALONE." Dana motioned to the blonde that had joined them. Mulder told the woman to take off, then watched as she walked toward a handsome cowboy whom she obviously knew very well.
"I hope this is worth it," Mulder said with a grin. He turned to face his grim-faced partner. She did not look to
happy.
"Listen, Mulder, we are here on a stakeout, not to pick up women," Dana said. He just grinned. "Our friend saw me. And
I'm not talking about the blonde." Mulder shrugged. "Am I getting through to you?"
"Yes, you are," he finally answered. "I saw him spot you." Mulder turned around and looked at their suspect.
"Better get ready," he said. "Party's about to begin."
Mulder turned around to look at his partner. She saw the old flame flicker in his eyes as the suspect made his move on
Mulder's blonde . . .
FBI Headquarters, Tuesday, August 16, 3:36 p.m.
Mulder looked over at his partner as she poured the contents of her desk's middle drawer into a large box. He could only
sigh. There was nothing he could do or say, she was leaving him. For good. Marrying that environmental demigod she met two years before at a New Year's Eve party. It hurt him knowing she no longer needed him, that he couldn't call her at any time, day or night, just to talk. He learned his lesson in March, calling her while John was there. At three a.m. Who would have guessed? Mulder was still in a state of shock when she arrived the next day. Now, she was leaving him lonelier than when they had been thrown together.
As he continued to stare at her, Mulder's thoughts went deeper. He had been afraid to ask her why and when she was
leaving. Skinner had been puzzled when he had first asked about Scully's departure from the X-Files division and the FBI.
The assistant director had expected Mulder to ask his partner, but Mulder couldn't. It would have made all too real.
So, now their partnership was drawing to a close. Mulder got up and walked over to the file cabinet so he wouldn't have to watch her pack. Over and over he cursed himself for not seeing the signs that she had been slipping away from him. She hadn't invited him over for pizza and watching movies over at her place late into the night had ended not long after she started dating John.
Mulder glanced over his shoulder to stare at Scully. *Stop it,* his conscious scolded him. *Do you want her to pity you for loving her?* But I don't love her, he replied. I value her friendship, trust her instincts (okay, only some of the time). She is the best friend I have ever had and she is walking out of my life today. So he asked the only question he knew mattered at this moment.
"What did you ask?" she said, barely catching her partner's words. He looked her straight in the eyes. She could see the
loneliness creep into their hazel depths.
"Does he make you happy?" he asked again. Mulder held his breath.
"John makes me very, very happy," she answered. He exhaled and slammed the cabinet door shut.
"That's all I needed to know," he said. Grabbing his coat off the back of his chair, he simply walked out the door,
shutting as he left. Scully stared at the closed door, wondering what went wrong.
Murphy's Bar, Tuesday, 8:45 p.m.
Mulder stared down at his drink and thought about what Scully had said. He makes her happy. That was something Mulder knew he would never be able to do. He could make her laugh, cry, smile, and just plain angry, but never happy. He stared up at the T.V. set above the bar. As usual, Murphy had it tuned in to the Knicks game. The old bartender looked at him with a half smile.
"What are you looking at, Murphy?" Mulder said.
"A guy who a) just got audited by the IRS, b) just lost his girlfriend or c) just lost his partner. Which one is it?"
"C."
"How?"
"Another guy."
"Really? She didn't go for the GQ look, huh?"
"No. More like Superman."
"Could never compete with that."
"No."
"Need a refill?"
"Why not the whole bottle?"
"That bad. That good a looker?"
"Gorgeous."
The bartender just shook his head as he poured the amber liquid into Mulder's glass. As he turned to put the bottle away,
the phone rang.
"Hey, Mulder, it's for ya?" Murphy said. Mulder took the receiver. "Hello?"
"Scully's looking for you," Skinner said.
"How did you know where I was?"
"I saw you there two weeks ago talking to Murphy. Thought you two knew each other pretty well. I figured it was worth a
shot."
"Did you send her here?" Mulder asked.
"She should be there any minute."
"Why did you do that?"
"Thought you two needed to get things straightened out before she left for good."
"Thanks, Skinner."
"Anytime." Mulder hung up the phone. He looked at Murphy.
"I need to get out of here fast. How much do I owe you?" Murphy told him. Laying out the bills on the bartender's palm,
Mulder thanked him. As he turned to walk out, Scully walked in.
"Hello, Mulder."
"Hi." Mulder looked at her shoes.
"We need to talk."
"We've said all that needs to be said."
"Why did you ask me if John makes me happy?"
"Just curious. Look, Scully, I need to leave."
"So do I. I just wanted to say goodbye." Mulder finally looked at her face. It was pale, as if she had been crying.
"You've said it. Good-bye, Scully. Take care." Scully moved to touch his face, but Mulder was too quick. He opened the
bar's door for her. Hurt, Scully looked once more at her partner's face. He looked back. The pain was evident to
Scully, his eyes seemed darker than they ever had been.
"Mulder, I just want to say that working with you for all these years has, . . ., was one of the best times of my life."
Mulder closed his eyes. The pain should have been too great for him to ignore, but he did. Leaving him was the best thing for her, he kept telling himself.
"Ditto, Dana." She smiled sadly. Scully said good-bye once more and then quickly walked out the door, never looking back. Mulder walked back to Murphy.
"Wanna talk about it?" Mulder looked out the window to see Scully embrace her fiancee. Looking back at the bartender, he
smiled a little.
"It all started about seven years ago . . . "