Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“We never question the meaning of life when we are in love.”

Desire is a feeling that has become alien to her, like all those alien things she and Mulder sought for life. Her life has become a sequence of deception, abduction, illness, getting shot, and almost dying repeatedly. She didn’t know when it had become so easy to forget that she was a warmed-blooded woman underneath all that. Reconnecting with that part of herself had become surprisingly challenging after her diagnosis, more than she’d like to admit.

Her body had been invaded and ravaged by a deadly disease; she was so thin that her ribcage was exposed through her even paler skin. In her already fair complexion, her big blue eyes seemed to stand out even more since she was almost translucent. Under her eyes, a dark circle grew visibly heavier and deeper as the weeks passed by, despite her best efforts to hide it with makeup, self-assurance, and avoidance.

Her daily struggle with the mirror was long and painful. It had become nothing more than a series of desperate escapades to wipe off a crescent and relentless nose bleeding. She would avoid looking at herself undressed, it was only a tool to cover, to hide, nothing else. Headaches and ached faces have become a constant occurrence. Still, she wouldn’t dare be defeated by any of it. She was determined to be strong, and resilient. For him, she needed to be strong for him, this is what she would tell herself.

Those torturous moments overshadowed the pleasure of looking at her image to get pampered, with her avocado masks, and those girly days she reserved for her days off, to the simple feeling of looking pretty, and sexy. In her last moments, of what she thought was the end of a battle, blush and concealer weren't covering up the heavy dark circles anymore, hiding the pale. The sick. The death was pointless, but she kept pushing it. She couldn't fathom looking sicker than she was. She couldn't stand the looks of pity and defeat of her colleagues like she was already dead.

Besides all of that, what was more distressing and painful was the expression of constant worry on Mulder's handsome face. It was true that everyone around her had already given in, her doctor knew her fate was approaching soon. She knew her cancer was untreatable and her hemorrhagic episodes were growing more frequent. However, Mulder never gave up on her. He was never defeated, his faith that she would have a miraculous cure was unshakable.

But this didn’t mean his soulful green eyes were growing darker and desperate, the sicker she became. She could see the guilt eating away at his heart, besides his best efforts to put on a facade. His eyes had become a constant reflection of her deterioration. Once upon a time, looking into his dreamy green eyes was a reflection of his growing trust, loyalty, and admiration, now it had become a mirror of searing pain, a pain she didn’t allow herself to feel. Seeing her decay through his eyes was painful enough.

She has mastered the art of avoidance. A nose bleeding was nothing, don’t worry Mulder, I’m fine. He didn’t need to know it wasn’t just superficial nose bleeding. It was internal bleeding that sometimes suffocated her in her sleep. He didn't need to know she would spend hours throwing up her own blood. More to the end she had hemorrhagic bleeding so violet that she would swallow so much blood her body had to purge out till she hadn’t the strength to move. Feeling weak and pain everywhere was just a new way of existing, and the best part of it was it didn’t leave evidence, she would smile through the pain, and the show must’ve gone on.

Even though looking into his eyes when she said she was fine, was killing her. Blurting this out on reflex, even when he didn’t ask, he just needed to look intently into her eyes. Or it was just a check-up, Mulder, I’m fine, lying through her teeth. This was destroying her, more than anything else. All he wanted was for her to let him in, but letting him in would’ve been her undoing. She told herself it didn’t mean she didn’t trust him. She didn't want to need him so much, she tried so hard not to. But she knew if he wasn’t there, with his tender eyes, begging her to let him in, she would've crumbled.

Sometimes she would feel like dying if she couldn't feel his touch when she was dying in that hospital bed. She’s become addicted to his soft touches, his protectiveness, and reverent kisses on her forehead and hand. When she thought she was in her last moments, her walls and avoidance had crumbled, and acceptance took its place and all she could think of was absorbing his love as much as she could, anything that he could offer. She knew that only love could hurt like that. Leaving him alone with all that guilt hurt more than dying. She had finally let him in but it was too late, she was about to receive the deadly kiss of death.

She thought that she wouldn’t care if he walked away and left her there if she kept him at arm's length, but every time she opened her eyes and he was there, watching her with so much love, care and pain, holding her hand in his lips, she couldn’t help but beg God and the universe for a second chance, because she wasn’t ready to leave him. She would cling to him, his hands so warm, his lips so soft, her body trembled, it was like a knife cutting through her soul because she couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving him.

But her body wasn’t fighting anymore. She was bleeding everywhere, she lost so much blood, so much weight, she knew she didn’t have much time left. She was a doctor, she knew what that meant. She had accepted her end. She was dying. But every time she looked into his eyes, the pain in her soul was agonising.

She thought at the time that her love was innocent, and she just didn’t want to leave her best friend behind. She knew he loved her back, and the misplaced guilt he felt would consume him more than anything else and with time would’ve destroyed him. But now she knows better, only loving your soul mate could hurt like that. Sometimes she thinks love is torture.

Nevertheless, a miraculous cure indeed took place. Mulder’s inability to quit saved her. Saved them. Over time, she gained some weight back, never like before, she's not complaining though. The mirror now reflected a picture of a healthy woman with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes that if she look deeper would never be the same. When she look at Mulder's deep greens’ she could only see his happiness over her remarkable health improvement, and a silent relief of having her in his life.

Recovery, going back to her crazy life with Mulder, seeking invisible ghosts and conspiracies, was her life, more than ever she wanted answers. She once again neglected all those feelings that emerged or were allowed to be felt during what she thought were her last moments. Feelings she wasn’t ready to face it.

Then, Phillip Padgett, in that quiet space in the confines of the lift, inadvertently woken something within; something she had long ‘forgotten’ almost a year ago when an almost kiss took place in the same building. Something that was neglected and never spoken again, but that would creep into her mind before sleeping. A fraction of that forgotten feeling of passion reemerged. He made her feel attractive. Desired. Sexy. His unabashed interest and pursuit made her reconnect with that long-forgotten moment that was once again interrupted by a dance with the reaper.

He was odd, not her type at all, she would never give him a second thought, hadn’t he responded to her presence the way he did. His jaw dropped slightly as he watched her. Like her presence was a gift. The hunger in his eyes was mingled with reverence. Her stomach should have turned to mush. However, she felt flattered, curious, perhaps aroused. This isn’t about him at all; it was about what he invoked within. Something she could no longer ignore. Deep down, besides all denials, she knew exactly what she wanted. It had become too lonely for her. To go to an empty apartment, tired of carrying the burden of sorrow alone. She craved to open up and let someone in. There was a longing to be intimate and to encourage another person to feel the same. Ready to share the simplicity, innocence, and trust of what was loving someone.

As much as she fought against it, as much as she doesn’t allow herself to go there, her heart needs Mulder. She wanted to go home with him and fall asleep in his arms. Let him see her vulnerability when she was scared. She was tired of being strong and resilient at all times, she craves feeling something other than pain and despair. Saying her damn, I’m fine on reflex as a way to shield herself from everything. Every time she said that, while obviously hurting, she could see the nervous biting of his lips and the pain in his eyes. She doesn’t know when she started feeling this way, but she can’t remember a time she didn’t love him.

As much as she was willing to admit her feeling to herself, she was not at all ready to reveal it to Mulder. And when she heard “Agent Scully is already in love.” Her heart was racing. Her body sweating with nervousness, she could hear herself gulping. Though she felt him gazing at her, she didn’t dare look back. It was something she had only admitted to herself. She trusted him completely. Her heart desires to open up to him. Yet she was used to ignoring those feelings daily.

After such a bold statement, they spent hours together in his apartment, surveilling Padgett. They were in comfortable silence, speaking only when it was necessary. It was their M.O ignoring important conversations, ignoring the big and white elephant in the room. She knew he was dying to confront her about that statement. But she also knew he was scared. It meant confronting his feelings in the process. He wasn’t stupid. He knew who she was in love with. Nonetheless, they weren't ready to open the can of worms just yet.

She wasn't sure how he did it, bus she was convinced of Padgett’s involvement in those crimes. They were ready to make the arrest, but just when she was following Mulder a man stopped her in her tracks. She tried to shoot him, to push him away from her, but he was relentless. The pain was excruciating. There was no doubt about it. She was on the verge of death. As she screamed in pain and desperation, her life passed before her eyes. This wasn't how she wanted to go and then all went black.

It felt as though her entire body was numb; a sign she was still alive. She felt a presence near her body, fear crept inside her. He was still here, trying to rip her heart away. When she opened her eyes, an expression of horror and disbelief was facing her, reflecting just how she was feeling. “Mulder,” she murmured her voice foreign to her ears.

Confusion and fogginess blurred her eyes as she reached out to him. She needed him to hold her. She clutched at him and sobbed on his neck, holding nothing back. Her desperation was outlandish to her ears. She was crying for so many reasons; for all the times she was attacked and didn’t let her tears fall freely, all the times she pushed him away and didn't let him take care of her.

Emotionally drained, she didn’t have the will or strength to shield herself. She couldn’t take another assault against her body, go home and pretend it never happened. Every trauma withdraws a fragment of one’s soul. Her soul, by now, was fragmented. A shell of the vibrant and innocent woman she once was. It was time to heal. She would finally let all that pain wash over, it was overwhelming to let so much pain on the surface, her loud and desperate crying was healing her. Once the healing process starts, the numbness lifts and there’s no knowing how the body and emotions will take you. But she needed this. She needed to let him in.

Her hands were persistent, digging her nails and fingers into his back, bringing him impossibly closer to her. She wanted to crawl into him and take all the protection he could offer, his body was also quivering, but she clung to him for dear life.

Praying with her heart that he would never let her go. She always knew if she let him take care of her like that, would be her undoing, but she was no longer afraid of showing him how much she needed him, his comfort, his love.

He accommodated her against his body, sitting on the floor with his back to the sofa. She was shaking like a leaf. He encased her bleeding body in his jacket, enveloping her in his arms. Her face was securely against the crook of his neck, holding a chunk of his sweater with a deadly grip. Sobbing and quivering like she hadn’t since she was a little girl, but for once, she wasn’t numb.

He held her tightly against his chest, peppering her hairline with soft kisses, saying unintelligible words of comfort. The pressure of his chest against her, being involved around his scent and the timbre of his voice, was the only thing keeping her sane.

They stayed like that till the cavalry arrived, she didn’t know when Mulder called them, but with immense reluctance, they disentangled from each other while she put on her brave face to the world.

Chapter Text

Reflected in You

Chapter 2

For so long, Dana Scully had found solace in retreating and hiding away. No matter the transgression, she would go to her place, pour a glass of wine, prepare an extravagant bubble bath, and lose herself in a book or some good music. When she was younger, she sought comfort in her mom's embrace, crying until she found release. But since her kidnapping, these moments had been forgotten. She didn't feel like she needed anything, and in some way, she had become detached from her own feelings. Most of the time, she didn't even know what she was feeling. 

She had grown distant from her best friend and family after her sister's death, consumed by guilt. The only person who truly understood her was Mulder. He knew everything about her, her deepest secrets and darkest transgressions, and being in his presence was soothing. With time, she had become completely desensitized, losing the ability to feel anything except anger and pain when Mulder's feelings were hurt. Her own feelings were forgotten, and she knew deep down she used this as a defence mechanism to function through trauma.

Despite experiencing a sense of freedom at times, she found herself indulging in reckless behaviour to feel something more. She went on a date with a complete stranger, impulsively got a tattoo, and tried engaging in wild, dangerous sex with a man who later on tried to kill her. Even though he had attempted to harm her, she didn't regret that moment. Over and over again, she craved the rush of feeling alive and the allure of the unknown proved irresistible. 

As the needle punctured her skin, the sensation was akin to a potent elixir coursing through her veins, empowering and intoxicating her. Rebelling against Mulder's belief that he held sway over her and that she was subservient to him, the realization that she could shock him with her actions was gratifying. He failed to grasp that her actions were not about him but about breaking free from her internal confinement, and nothing he did could restrain her.

She smoked a cigarette, despite disliking them, and found herself in the apartment of the creepiest man she had ever met, who had confessed to stalking her. Despite her reservations, she accepted a drink she suspected might be spiked. Would she have slept with him if Mulder had not interrupted them?

She needed to know if she could still feel pain, both metaphorically and physically. While she only bled physically, she couldn't feel the pain that accompanied it. She felt broken, like a wingless bird struggling on the ground. She was fighting to feel something again, knowing that numbness comes at the cost of feeling alive. The emptiness consumed her, but when that man held her down with his cold, lifeless touch, she wanted to scream, " I don't want to die!"

He brought her back to reality. His freezing, painful touch jolted her back to feeling. She cried with abandon and despair as if all the pain she had been unable to feel before came flooding back at once. Her release was so powerful that it not only woke her up but also Mulder. She could see the shock on his face and the tremor in his body. It was as if the Dana who had been lost for so long and could no longer see her reflection in the mirror was returning, stronger than ever.

Her skin was clammy and ashen, and her pulse was racing. Her breathing was unsteady, and she felt weak and dizzy. Her body temperature was low, and she was freezing. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and cry for a week. She wasn't finished yet; that sweet release was still sleeping inside her. As a doctor, she knew she was in shock. The paramedic who examined her confirmed it, and after some argument, they agreed that as long as she could rest and wasn't alone, she did not need to go to the hospital.

But she knew better. This was more than just shock. She could feel the pain again, and once again, she was watching her world dissolve. But this time, she would not pretend that she did not see the fall. She had lost a significant amount of blood, leaving the paramedic confused since there was no visible wound. While she was stable, her emotions were telling a different story. Skinner came to check on her after a brief exchange with Mulder, but he knew she wasn't in any condition to talk.

As they left, she sat on Mulder's bed, feeling lost, weak, and defeated. She touched her chest for the first time, noticing her finger trembling and her skin sticky with her own blood, her blouse now nothing but a gory mess. Suddenly, all she could think of was taking a shower. When she looked up, she saw Mulder watching her silently. He approached her and enveloped her fragile body in his warm arms. She relaxed into him with a sigh of relief. All she wanted was his arms around her. They seemed to have found a new level of intimacy as if he were accepting her unspoken invitation to comfort her. ‘Would you hold me? Would you cry with me?’

After holding her for what felt like an eternity, Scully finally decided it was time to rid herself of the grisly evidence that clung to her body. As she began to unfasten her blouse, a sense of desperation washed over her. She studied her reflection in the mirror, wondering if they would ever become friends.

Despite her dishevelled appearance, Scully couldn't help but feel a sense of beauty in her own personal disaster. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and blood stained her neck and chest. A shiver ran through her body as she touched her chest, but there was no physical pain. If it weren't for the overwhelming agony she had experienced, Scully might have believed it was all just a vivid nightmare. Yet as she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized she was no longer a shell of the person she once was. She could feel her pain, and that was the first step toward healing. Scully knew she needed to let go.

She turned on the shower and stepped under the warm jets, feeling the water wash away the remnants of her trauma. As the blood slid down her olive skin, she began rubbing her body violently, wanting to rid herself of the memories that haunted her. The more she saw the blood, the harder she scrubbed. Her skin burned, but she couldn't stop. Scully was exhausted from the constant reminders of death and violence that surrounded her. Finally, her strength gave out, and she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She felt like her heart had been crushed, and her soul expelled from her body.

Suddenly, a distant voice called out her name. Scully looked up, almost in a trance. "SCULLYYY?!!!!" the voice called again, closer this time.

In a moment of confusion, Scully found herself wrapped in a huge fluffy towel, being carried like a bride. It was Mulder. He held her close, trying to soothe her as she trembled and sobbed uncontrollably. She could barely speak, grasping his now-soaked shirt and burying her face in his neck.

Finally, Mulder was able to calm her down. They held each other close, seeking comfort in one another's embrace. It was as if their world had shattered, leaving them lost and alone in an ongoing madness. The moon cast a soft glow in the almost-dark room as they sat on the bed, with Scully half-sitting on Mulder's lap. He held her close to his chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and played with her hand. Every now and then, he would kiss her forehead, and she would feel safe.

As they gazed into each other's eyes, Scully slowly slid her hand from Mulder's hand to his chest, then up to his neck. She turned his face toward hers, and they looked at each other with soft smiles. They didn't speak for a moment, but just stared into each other's eyes, relishing in the newfound intimacy. Scully finally felt at peace after so much sorrow.

He appeared drained, with tear stains on his face. His green eyes were haunted, revealing a depth of emotion that made her heart ache. In all of the chaos, she hadn't considered how he was feeling. Before she could say anything, he murmured, "I thought you were dead..." His voice was rough and pained, and she knew then that he was trapped in this nightmare with her.

"When I saw you lying there, bleeding so violently, for a moment I stopped...my heart stopped. My body went numb. For the first time since everything, I thought I had lost you. I don't know what I would do, Scully. You were so pale, so still, like all the blood had drained from your body. This time, I thought I had lost you for good." His raw emotions radiated grief as he remembered those moments.

Overwhelmed, she took his hand and held it tightly over her chest, trying to reassure him that she was alive. "I thought I was dying. I could feel his hand squeezing my heart. I tried to shoot him, but the bullets passed right through him. I fought and tried to break free, but he was too strong, too determined. The air left my lungs, and his eyes were sardonic, waiting for the life to disappear from my eyes. I thought that this was the end, Mulder."

He wiped away the tear that had escaped her eyes and caressed her cheek, looking into her blue pools with a sombre and determined expression. "I don't want to die with regrets, Mulder," she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have waited for you...I'm sorry," he said with a struggling cry.

"This isn't your fault," she replied, firmly.

"I should have known better. He was obsessed with you, Scully," he repeated, his voice breaking with every apology. "I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry." With every "sorry," he kissed her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and nose. He rested his forehead against hers, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she caressed his face. For a moment, they were still, and only their breaths could be heard.

She kissed his cheeks gently. "This isn't your fault, honey."

Their eyes closed, and he tenderly rubbed his nose against hers, not wanting to lose contact. He hugged her tightly and brought her closer, and they leaned in to peck each other's lips, again and again.

They rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily. His breath tickled and burned her lips, igniting an uncontrollable desire. With their eyes closed, they savoured this quiet, intimate moment. Then he captured her mouth with his own, and she whimpered with a mixture of shock and pleasure.

He slipped his tongue possessively and skillfully into her mouth, exploring and igniting a fiery passion. His firm lips took charge, stealing her breath and sending an electric pulse through her body. She wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him in closer, craving his touch in every inch of her mouth.

He knew her desires and responded eagerly, licking and stroking her tongue as his hands slid down her body to firmly grasp her ass. She wanted him completely, consequences be damned. Despite any excuses she had made to herself, she needed him inside her not only with his tongue.

She ran her hand over his chest, descending down to feel the bulge in his pants, begging for him to touch her there and ease the ache in her core. Mulder responded, moving his hands from her behind to her shoulders before nuzzling away and breaking their kiss. She was left feeling empty and cold, struggling to catch her breath. Mulder’s breath was equally ragged as he panted in rhythm with hers. As she returned to reality, she became uneasy, unable to understand why he had retreated.

Chapter Text

Reflected in You

Chapter 3

Mulder's hands slowly moved from Scully's behind to her shoulders, breaking their passionate kiss. As they parted, Scully struggled to calm her breathing, feeling a sense of emptiness and coldness wash over her. Mulder's breaths were equally ragged, and he panted in time with hers. She looked up at him with concern, worried about what had caused him to break the moment.

"Mulder? What's wrong?" she asked softly, searching his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I just...I want you."

Scully's heart skipped a beat at his confession, and her cheeks flushed with desire. Mulder's rugged good looks and mysterious persona had always left her weak in the knees. She tried to steady her breathing, but Mulder's ragged breaths only added to the tension between them. For a moment, they lost themselves in each other, their bodies yearning for more.

But then there was a persistent knocking at the door, interrupting their moment of passion. Mulder quickly disentangled himself from Scully, apologising as he ran towards the door.

Scully was bewildered. She had been waiting for this moment for years, and now they were interrupted. She felt disappointed and wondered if Mulder was rejecting her. As she came back to her senses, she realised that the towel was still firmly wrapped around her. She looked up and saw a forgotten white T-shirt and boxer briefs on the bed. She quickly put on Mulder's clothes, and they fit her like a dress. Her hair was still damp from the shower, adding to her dishevelled appearance.

Mulder came back with a shy smile on his face, his eyes roaming over her curves in his oversized clothes. "Hey," he said, approaching her with hunger in his eyes.

"Hey," she responded, feeling shy herself. "Thank you," she said, pointing to her attire.

"You look stunning in my clothes," he said with a low growl, his eyes raking over her body. He brushed her cheek with his hand, his touch igniting a spark of desire within her. "It was the pizza guy. We're going to talk later, Scully. You need your rest. Today you went through hell. And I need to make sure you're okay. Today, I'll be Doctor Muldine," he finished with a sweet chuckle, his voice full of concern.

Scully's heart fluttered at the tenderness in his voice. She knew he was right; after all, she had been through a lot that day. But the passion between them was still simmering beneath the surface, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“But, Mulder…” she said, her voice trailing off.

He understood her unspoken desires and pecked her lips gently. "We’ll come back to this when you’re feeling alright. I promise you. Now let’s eat," he said, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the living room.

Scully felt a rush of emotions wash over her as she looked at him, her heart full of love and desire. She knew that their moment had been interrupted, but deep down, she knew that it was only the beginning of something beautiful. With Mulder by her side, she knew that anything was possible.

***

As Scully lay in Mulder's embrace, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was safe and protected in his strong arms, and she knew that she could trust him completely. As she snuggled closer to him, she noticed the scent of his cologne mixed with the aroma of the pizza they had eaten earlier. It was a heady and intoxicating combination, and she found herself getting lost in the moment.

Mulder's steady breathing and the sound of his heartbeat lulled her into a peaceful slumber. It felt like they had been sleeping for hours when she was awakened by a soft kiss on her forehead. Mulder was awake, and he was watching her with a tender expression on his face.

"Hey, beautiful," he said softly, his voice filled with love.

"Hey," she responded, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks.

"You look so beautiful when you're sleeping," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Scully smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her body. She knew that Mulder was sincere in his compliments, and it made her feel loved and cherished. As she snuggled closer to him, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her even closer to his body.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Scully nodded, feeling grateful for his care and attention. "Yes, I am. Thanks to you," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.

Mulder leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips, his touch sending shivers down her spine. As they parted, he looked into her eyes and said, "I'm here for you, Scully. Always."

Scully felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She had never felt so loved and cared for before, and she knew that she was exactly where she belonged - in Mulder's arms. As they lay there in peaceful silence, Scully realised that she must've fallen asleep again. She was startled when she felt Mulder lifting her up in his arms, carrying her to his bedroom for the second time in one day.

He carefully placed her on the sheets and silently removed his shirt and trousers before joining her. He enveloped her in his arms, spooning her and burying his head deep in her hair. They both took a contented deep breath before falling asleep almost immediately.

Scully felt safe and cherished in Mulder's embrace. She knew that the events of the day had brought them closer together, and she was grateful for their unspoken connection. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face, feeling hopeful for the future.

***

The morning light seeps through the curtains, awakening Scully. She turned over to face Mulder who was still asleep, his breathing slow and steady. She couldn't help but admire his ruggedly handsome features, even in sleep. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle touch on her arm. Mulder was slowly coming to life, his eyes still closed. He leans in and places a soft kiss on her forehead. 

"Good morning," he whispers, his breath tickling her skin.  

"Morning," Scully replies, smiling at him. 

Mulder studies her for a moment, probably checking her health state, he must’ve been satisfied with what he’s seen, as he ends up pulling her closer, his hand sliding down her back, caressing her skin. She can feel his growing desire for her, and she responds in kind, pressing her body against his. 

They kiss passionately, their hands exploring each other's bodies. Mulder rolls on top of her, and she feels his hardness against her thigh. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking into her eyes. 

She nods, desire burning in her own eyes. 

Just as Mulder is about to deepen the kiss, there's a sudden knock on the door. They freeze, looking at each other in frustration and disappointment. 

"Seriously?" Mulder mutters, rolling off of her and standing up to answer the door. 

It was Skinner at the door, and Scully's heart skipped a beat, she knew something important must have happened for Skinner to come all the way to his apartment. 

"What can I do for you?" Mulder asked in a friendly tone. 

"I need you in Marion, Agent Mulder," the man said with a worried voice. 

"Illinois?" Mulder asked quite taken aback. 

A shiver ran down her spine as Mulder answered yes to Agent Skinner's request—Scully quickly rearranged herself and tries to regain her composure. She hears muffled voices and footsteps outside the room, but she can't make out what they're saying.

“How is Agent Scully?” she heard Skinner wanting to know.

"She's doing pretty well," Mulder replied.

They made all arrangements and Mulder returned to the bedroom with a serious expression on his face. "We need to go," he says, grabbing his clothes. 

"What happened?" Scully asks, confused and still caught up in the moment they were interrupted from. 

"I'll explain on the way," Mulder replies, urgency in his voice. "But we have to move fast." 

Mulder had brought the travel bag that she kept in her car, making it easy for her to get dressed. 

They grab their weapons and rush out of the apartment, leaving the interrupted moment behind them. Once again

***

The urgency in Mulder's voice sent chills down Scully's spine as they hurried out of the apartment building. She couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Mulder didn't offer any explanations as they ran towards their car, and Scully could tell by the set of his jaw that he was deep in thought, trying to piece together the information he had received.

As they got into the car and started driving, Scully couldn't help but wonder what had happened to interrupt their moment earlier. Was it a threat to their safety? Or was it something related to their work? Mulder still hadn't said anything, and the silence in the car only added to the tension between them.

"Donnie Pfaster escaped from prison," he said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. 

Scully was in shock. Donnie Pfaster had escaped from prison, and she couldn't help but remember the horrors of their previous encounter with him. The thought of him being out there, free to do as he pleased, sent shivers down her spine.

As she stared blankly into the road,  Mulder pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her. "I don't want to put you through this, Scully. Not after yesterday. I'm worried about you."

Scully felt a lump form in her throat. She knew that Mulder was only looking out for her, but she couldn't help but feel frustrated. "I can't just sit back and do nothing, Mulder. We have to catch him before he hurts anyone else."

Mulder nodded, understanding. "I know, Scully. But I don't want you to put yourself in danger. Not after everything that's happened."

Scully looked out the window, deep in thought. She knew that Mulder was right. She had been through so much already, and the last thing she wanted was to put herself in harm's way again.

But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel drawn to the case. She knew that they had to catch Pfaster, no matter what. As they sat there in silence, Mulder reached over and took her hand. "I'm here for you, Scully. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Scully looked at him, grateful for his presence. At that moment, she realized just how much she needed him. Not just as a partner, but as a friend and maybe something more. Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle kiss, filled with emotion and passion. Mulder responded in kind, deepening the kiss and pulling her close.

As they finally pulled away, Scully smiled. "Thank you, Mulder. I needed that."

Mulder smiled back at her, his eyes filled with love. "Anytime, Scully."

As they raced towards their destination, their hands intertwined, Scully couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration and gratitude towards Mulder. He was her partner, her best friend, and her soulmate, and she knew that no matter what dangers they faced, they would always face them together.