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Mulder's Apartment, Friday, December 13, 11:34 p.m.
Mulder opened the door to his apartment and stepped in quietly. Slipping the green and purple tie from around his neck, he flung it into his chair and plopped himself down on his trusty old couch. He guessed it was his psychology training that always led him to sleep on the couch. Turning the TV on to some old science fiction movie he loved, he started to think about the night's events. It wasn't very often an agent gets married, so when one does, the department throws a huge party. Tonight they had done so, celebrating the marriage of one of the rookies. Jante Kowalski was tall and blonde and beautiful and deadly with the agency's regulation firearm, a .36 Beretta, as well as non-regulation weapons. Skinner himself said that her husband was either lucky to have survived this far or a glutton for punishment. Mulder guessed it was a little of both.
Seeing Jante look so happy tonight as she opened gifts from her fellow agents and joked with everyone, even Mulder, whom she had meet only briefly when she joined the Washington office, Mulder had begun to wish Scully had been there to share in the merriment. But as soon the pain came, as it always does when he thought of his ex-partner, it went away. He guessed he deserved a break from his self-inflicted wound.
Mulder returned his attention to the movie. It was coming up, his favorite scene. The alien was just about to catch up with the pilot to. . ., 'Dammit, always at that part,' he thought to himself as someone knocked at his door. Pushing himself off the couch, Mulder walked to the door, running his fingers through his dark, longish hair. He couldn't remember the last time he had a decent haircut, but it must have been months ago. Skinner had sent a memo about it last week.
Whoever was at the door became more insistent, the knocking growing louder. "I'm coming!" he yelled. Quickly slipping the deadbolt to open, he opened the door. Scully's tear-stained face came to view. "Scully," he said quietly. He opened the door and Scully ran into his arms, crying. He grew worried, feeling the sobs rack her body. Gradually, she grew calm. He said her name softly once again, but there was no answer. She was asleep.
Mulder picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. He placed her limp body on the bed. Her face was red and blotchy from all her crying, but Mulder didn't care. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, and she was here. That's all he really cared about.
Mulder's Apartment, Saturday, 12:28 p.m.
Scully woke up, unsure of her surroundings. Last night's events had left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't even quite sure where she had ended up. Looking around the sparsely decorated room, her first inclination was she was in a motel room, like when she and Mulder were out on a case. Then she saw a photograph of her, facing a cliff, her head tilted back in an arrogant way as if to say "I'm gonna conquer you, dammit." She smiled as she remembered that trip. Mulder had broken three fingers and a rib on the first day, but he had insisted they stay. It had been a long time since they had a break. Scully remembered he had a camera with him at the time. She remembered Mulder holding her as she cried at night for her lost sister. It had been the least he could do for her, being there for her as she grieved for Melissa. Then she remembered the terrible things he had said to her on that last day and she shuddered. That had not been her Mulder. He had become a stranger.
Scully sighed. He had hurt her deeply when she left, only five months ago. John had commented on her lack of enthusiasm from that night on, but she told him it was her nerves. He had accepted her word as the truth. But the truth was Mulder had made her realize that her relationship with John was a lie. It was actually Mulder she wanted. His cold and callous ways had just prevented her from telling him. Yet, now in this room, she realized that her break-up with John, just
the night before, was for the best. She would never have been a good wife to him if she still harbored feelings for her ex-partner. So, she instigated a knock-down, drag-out fight with John, which resulted in her broken engagement and subsequent arrival at this place.
Scully looked around the room, taking in more details. She noticed a half-molded pizza sitting in a corner, a horrid multicolored tie lying across it. A closet full of navy, grey and black suits intermingled with jeans and jogging pants. A holster laid haphazardly across a beanbag chair. This had to be Mulder's place, she thought. Scully had never been inside his bedroom before and now she was glad. This room reminded her of her brothers' boyhood rooms. Scully giggled.
"Glad to see you're awake," a deep voice said suddenly. Scully looked up at Mulder. His dark hair was longer than she had ever seen it. Two days worth of stubble graced his jaw and his hazel eyes were bloodshot as if he had not been sleeping, again.
"You look horrible, Mulder," she said with a smile. He smiled back and leaned into the doorway.
"Thanks. You don't look to hot yourself," he replied with his usual sarcastic flair. Scully blushed and bent her head toward her knees that were pulled up to her chest. "What happened?" His quiet voice forced her to look up. The last time he had used that tone he had been asking her if John made her happy.
"We, . . ." she stopped and took a deep breath. "We called off the wedding." Mulder immediately tensed but Scully didn't notice. She was paying too much attention to his eyes. They were closed to her, as they had been when they had first met. She couldn't tell what he was thinking and it was driving her crazy.
"Why?" Scully suddenly felt as if she was being interrogated. "It doesn't matter anymore. John and I are through. I just want to forget the entire episode happened." Mulder felt his temper flare up.
"It was just an episode. A year and a half of nothing. After all I went . . ." Mulder stopped his tirade and stormed out of the room. Scully looked at the doorway in confusion. *After all what I wonder?* she thought. She quickly climbed out of bed. She was still wearing the pantsuit from the night before. Scully looked around for something else to wear. The green silk suit was too sexy to wear when she was about to have a serious discussion with her ex-partner. She grabbed a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt that seemed clean and dressed, her mind racing with possibilities. Mulder called out her name.
Walking through the hallway to the kitchen, Scully noticed little things she had never seen before. A framed picture of Mulder's mother and father working in a garden at their home in Massachusetts. Pictures of various agents he had worked with over the years also hung along the hallway. A glass ballerina stood on a shelf near his computer. She entered the kitchen. Mulder had his back to her.
"Would you like scrambled eggs or French toast?" he asked calmly. Scully sat down at the table.
"Neither. You know I hate fried foods."
"What about all that fried chicken you used to suck down? Or the pepperoni pizza with black olives and onions?"
"At least I wasn't the one who ate the sausage and anchovies." Mulder turned to look at her. He was smiling.
"Seems like old times there for a moment."
"Yeah, but at least we were talking about something normal for a change. Not fluke monsters or shadows that kill."
"Is that why you left? Had our work begun to wear on you and your beliefs? If so, why did you stay for seven years?" Scully look down at the table, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. His remarks couldn't be farther from the truth.
"No, Mulder, I didn't leave because of our work. Our job was interesting and fun and unusual. The FBI was not why I left. I left because, . . ., because, . . ." and suddenly Scully wasn't sure if she wanted to go down this road. If she, no, if they did, nothing would be the same again.
"Why, Scully?" he asked softly. "Why did you leave me?" Scully looked up at him and decided he deserved the truth.
"Because of you."
Mulder's Apartment, 3:11 p.m.
Mulder listened to the shower running in the bathroom. Scully had been in there for over an hour and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He stretched out on the couch and flipped through the different cable stations.
"Great, it's on again," he said to no one in particular as he found his favorite sci-fi movie was once more showing. It was nearing his favorite scene, and, . . ., and, Scully walked in front of his view.
"Scully, get out of the way. This is my favorite scene." Scully quickly sidestepped to the left. "Aw, hell, I missed it again. Thank you very much." Scully merely shrugged. Mulder looked up at her and noticed her teeth were chattering.
"What's wrong? Did you see something?" Scully shook her head. "Please talk to me."
"Yoooouuuu neeeeed to geeet thatttt thhhhinnngg fixxed." she said finally. "IIIttttt'ss freeeezzzingggg innnn theeerrre." Mulder let out a sigh of relief.
"I should have warned you, the lines are crossed. The hot water goes where the cold water usually goes and vice versa. I'm sorry." Scully decked him and walked to the bedroom. Mulder watched her, rubbing his jaw.
Mulder walked into the bedroom to see Scully going through her purse. He sat down beside her on the bed.
"Where are you going to go?" he asked. Scully shrugged as she continued to dig for something. "You can stay here until you can find a place."
"Oh, yeah, I can see you and me settling down rather cozy here. Do you think I'm that crazy?" Mulder was noncommittal. She continued to burrow into the purse.
"If you dig any further, you'll end up in China. Let me help." Scully handed him the purse. Mulder jammed his hand into the purse, and found instantly what she was looking for.
"Thanks Mulder, you found it."
"I don't think you want to put it on, since most of it is all over my hand."
"Well, next time be more careful if you are going to go digging into my purse," she said as she grabbed the tube of lipstick out of his color-stained hand.
"Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?" he asked.
"Nope." She put the lipstick on and looked up at him. He looked so earnest that finally she gave in. "Okay."
"Okay. What exactly did happen today?"
"We discussed why I left."
"Which ended with you telling me that it was because of me. Now, why was that?"
"It was your attitude about my marriage. I mean you didn't even ask me why I was leaving. You asked Skinner. You were screwing women while we were on stakeouts."
"What a minute. I was screwing women while we were in stakeouts? When did this happen? I don't remember having sex in the past year?!!?"
"Then why did you act the way you did during the past year?"
"Ummm, because of you." Scully looked at him in confusion. "You were getting married and leaving me. I went a little crazy. I mean, you have been with me through so much and I was a little jealous of how much of your time he was taking up."
"You were, umm, jealous of John."
"Yeah, I was. Scully, I really care about you. I know I have been a total jackass for the past year."
"Why did you never tell me? I mean, the only reason why I broke up with John was because of you."
"If you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you, then why have we wasted seven years?"
"Because we were partners."
"Oh, yeah. So now what?" Scully shrugged. "I guess we wake up Monday, get dressed and go to work."
"Are you rejoining the FBI?"
"I have already talked to Skinner. We'll be partners again starting Monday." Mulder nodded. Looking around, he got up of the bed and started walking toward the door. He stopped and looked back at her.
"So nothing can happen between us."
"What makes you think that?" Scully asked with a sudden grin. Mulder walked over to her and gave her a quick, hard kiss.
"Welcome back, Dana," she heard his heavy voice. "I've missed you."
"Ditto, Mulder. Ditto."