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Chapter Text

Mulder opened his eyes and took a moment to work out where he was. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he recognised his own living room. He groaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. Since he had started sleeping regularly in a bed again, his body rebelled whenever he slept for a whole night on his couch. Mulder sat, bleary-eyed, trying to remember why he had fallen asleep. He caught sight of the box from the night before and he remembered the delight and remorse of listening to the personal conversations of Dana Katherine Scully. Sighing, he shuffled into his bathroom, berating himself for invading her privacy whilst simultaneously acknowledging that he would continue to do so immediately after his shower.

Drying his hair and sipping his coffee, Mulder settled himself back on his couch just as the weak winter sunlight started to push through his dirty windows. He continued to listen.

“Hello?”
“Dana, it’s Mom.”
“Hi Mom. How are you?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Have you asked Fox yet?”
“Mom, it’s Mulder, not Fox.”
“Fine. Have you asked Mulder yet?”

Mulder smiled at Scully’s insistence on not using his first name, even when he wasn’t there to hear. That conversation out the front of Tooms’ place had really stayed with her. It had stayed with him too (“I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anyone but you.”). He also wondered what she had been supposed to ask him. He thought back but couldn’t remember Scully asking him anything on behalf of Maggie.

“Mom…”
“Dana, I need to finalise the menu and do the shopping. Is Fo-Mulder coming to Easter Sunday lunch?”
“I haven’t had a chance to invite him yet. Work has been busy and it just hasn’t been appropriate.”
“Dana! It’s in less than a week! You need to ask him. What if he’s already made other plans?”
“Mom, I don’t think Mulder celebrates Easter. He’s not religious. At least, not the way we are. I’m not sure that he’ll want to come and spend the day with our family. It could be a bit awkward for him. Plus I know he won’t want to go to Mass.”
“He doesn’t need to go to Mass. He can just come to lunch. And I want to invite him - it’s not up to you to make the choice for him. If you won’t ask him, give me his number and I’ll call him myself. You said his parents are divorced and he doesn’t see them much. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. It would be nice for him to be part of a family celebration.”
“I’m not sure he would agree, Mom, but I’ll ask him. I promise. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Mom! I said I would. I’ll ask him and I’ll call you tomorrow night. I’m sure he’ll say no, though.”

Mulder frowned, wondering why Scully never asked him to Easter lunch. He wondered if she lied to her mother and said she asked him when she hadn’t. She was right, he would have refused the invitation with a lame excuse - but he would have been touched that Maggie Scully had thought of him in such a caring way. He couldn’t imagine Scully lying to her mom, though. He thought back to April 1995 and suddenly remembered why she had never asked him. The night Scully was having this conversation with her mother, Mulder was meeting The Thinker and getting the encrypted digital tape. He was also, unbeknownst to him, being drugged. The day she had promised to ask him, he had shown her the files and attacked Skinner. From that point on, a series of events were set in motion that would have pushed all thoughts of Easter and joyful family lunches out of Scully’s mind. And eventually Maggie’s as well.

“Oh Mulder. My God. Look at you, you’re sick.”
“I’m OK. I’m OK.”
“No. Come on. Come on. I want you to lie down. No. Come on. I want you to lie down. Take your coat off.”
“We gotta find him, Scully.”
“You have to lie down.”
“We gotta find out who killed my father.”
“RIght now you need to rest, OK? Just rest. It’s OK. It’s OK.”

Mulder frowned as he heard his own voice but had no recollection of the conversation. He knew he had made his way to Scully’s after his father had been killed but he didn’t remember getting there. He must have been delirious. But damn he was lucky to have Scully in his life.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, Scully? You’ll help me find him?”
“Sssh, Mulder. Rest.”
“Promise me you’ll help me! I need you! I can’t do it alone. I never could.”
“Mulder, please, you need to rest. Lie down and close your eyes.”
“NO! Why won’t you help me? Do you think I did it? I didn’t do it, Scully! I promise! Please… please believe me. You have to believe me.”
“I believe you, Mulder. Sssh, I believe you.”
“I didn’t kill him, Scully.”
“You didn’t kill him.”
“And you’ll help me find who did? I need your help. You’re so smart. Way smarter than me. Have I told you that?”
“No, Mulder, you haven’t.”
“Oh. Maybe it’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone. But you’ll help me find who killed my father?”
“I’ll help you, Mulder. I always help you.”
“You always help me. OK, if you’re going to help me, I can rest now.”
“Good. But first we need to get your clothes off. Do you think you can do that?”
“I don’t think it’s a good time, Scully. I don’t feel that great. And besides we have to find the man who shot my father.”
“Mulder. I know you don’t feel great, that’s why you have to rest. We will find the man who shot your father tomorrow.”
“But you said I had to take my clothes off.”
“To rest, Mulder. You’re covered in blood. You need to take your clothes off and get into bed. Can you do that?”
“But this is your bed.”
“Yes, Mulder, it is.”
“This isn’t how I imagined taking my clothes off and getting into your bed.”
“I’ll be back in a minute. Take your clothes off and lie down.”

Mulder heard the sound of her footsteps and rustling on the tape. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps returning and a loud sigh of relief. He must have been asleep.

“What have they done to you, Mulder? I promise we’ll figure it out. You’ll be OK. You have to be OK.”

Mulder closed his eyes and imagined he could feel the ghost of Scully’s hand brushing his forehead. He didn’t remember the conversation at all but he seemed to have a somatic memory of her soft hand gently stroking his hair back and running her cool fingers across his face. He was jarred out of the sensation by the sound of his own angry voice.

“You took my gun. You think I did it, don’t you?”
“I took your gun to run it through ballistics to try and clear you, Mulder.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“You had a temperature of 102 last night, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“What, were you afraid I would shoot you too?”
“Mulder, I’m being called into Skinner’s office this afternoon. They’re gonna want answers and I’d like some good ones to give them.”
“So you can clear your conscience and your name? You’ve been making reports on me since the beginning. Taking your little notes!”
“Mulder, you’re sick. You’re not thinking straight. I’m on your side. You know that.”
“Look, you have my files and my gun. Don’t ask me for my trust.”

He winced at his tone and his words. Telling Scully he didn’t trust her was the biggest insult he could imagine. And he knew she knew that too. He was lucky she even spoke to him again. He was lucky that she had dismissed his actions and his words as drug-induced paranoia and had stuck by him anyway. She had saved him. From himself. From Krycek. From the faceless men who were attempting to manipulate him. The consortium never stood a chance against him once they introduced Scully. He let out a humourless laugh. They had tried to assign him a spy and a foil but all they had done was given him the one person in the world who would follow him and support him no matter what. They had handed him the secret weapon. He would have been long dead or discredited or jailed or in a psychiatric ward if they hadn’t sent her to him. The idiots. He smiled at the thought that it was not long after this conversation that she had shot him. Then she had driven him cross-country to meet the person who she thought could help him. She had risked her life, her job, her freedom, her reputation all because she believed in him, even when he was pushing her away. Even when she had every right and opportunity to walk away. Instead she had come to him and rescued him. Again.

As the next recording began there was a shift in the volume and the ambient sounds.
“Dana?”
“Hi Mom.”
“What are you doing with your shoes?”
“They started to give me blisters, so…”
“You walked here this time of night?”
“Oh Mom!”
“What is it, Dana?”
“I’ve made a terrible mistake. Dad would be so ashamed of me.”

Mulder quickly drew in a breath. This wasn’t recorded at Scully’s apartment. This had been a conversation at her mother’s house. Those bastards! Was no corner of her life sacred? How long had they had surveillance on Margret Scully? The thought made him sick. Bringing his attention back to the tape, he realised this must have been shortly after he had disappeared in the New Mexico desert, presumed dead. After she had been suspended without pay.

“I don’t see how you could fault yourself. You had to make a choice. You did what you thought was right.”
“No. I did what I thought was right for my partner.”
“Wouldn’t Mulder have done the same for you?”
“Yes! But that’s exactly it, Mom. I behaved exactly how Mulder would have behaved. I lied and I countermanded my superiors because I thought that pursuit of the truth was more important.”
“And wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know what the truth is. But as far as the FBI is concerned the truth is that if all of their agents behaved this way, they wouldn’t be able to do their job. And they’re right!”

Mulder considered Scully’s words. Did she honestly regret standing up to the FBI, taking care of him, taking him to New Mexico? He supposed he couldn’t blame her, the apparent outcome being what it was - she had lost her job, the respect of her superiors, and the partner she risked it all for had died anyway. She thought she had lost everything, including him. And for nothing. But the disillusionment and agitation he heard in her voice as she spoke about behaving like him still hurt.

“Dana, if you’re really worried about what your father would think of you… I think he’d see that there’s no right choice and no wrong one. He would have been very proud and supportive of his daughter.”
“Mom, there was a right choice to make. And I didn’t make it. I went with Mulder to New Mexico.”

Mulder found himself wishing, not for the first time, that his mother was more like Maggie Scully. Full of unconditional support, comfort, and love. Offering her daughter a safe space, a shoulder, and the words she needed to hear. He had loved his mother but he had never felt close to her. Never thought of her as the person to go to when he needed consoling or encouraging. Now, when he thought of the concept of a mother, he pictured Margret Scully.

On the tape he heard the sound of a door opening and closing and another person entering the room.

“I never should have let him go off by himself. He, he was in no condition.”
“Something’s happened to the man you work with, hasn’t it?”
“Melissa, please.”

When he heard Melissa’s voice, Mulder felt tears start to well in his eyes. Not long after this she would be dead. Murdered in cold blood. Not only had she died because of him and his quest but he had managed to ruin the last family celebration that the Scullys might have had with her. This conversation was the day after they were supposed to have their big Easter lunch. The lunch that Maggie had wanted him to attend. Instead, her daughter was driving his unconscious body across the country in search of answers to questions she didn’t even fully believe in.

“No. No, I’ve been feeling it for the last couple of days. He’s become ill or something.”
“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?”

For a moment, Mulder thought the recording had ended abruptly. Then he heard Scully release a big sigh.

“Melissa, Mulder is very likely dead.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No, I do believe that.”
“I’m getting very strong feelings otherwise.”
“I wish it weren’t true…”
“No. No, honey, it’s more than that. You’re radiating, Dana. You have a connection with him that’s still strong. Powerful.”
“Melissa, don’t do this.”
“Well, I know what I feel.”
“Fine. We’ll leave it at that. Because you have absolutely no sensitivity to my feelings.”
“Oh Dana. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t feel so sure… You need a second opinion.”
“This isn’t a medical condition, Melissa. It is a statement of fact. It’s either true or it isn’t. And based on the empirical evidence which I happen to have gathered, it’s a pretty damn sure bet that you’re whistling in the wind.”
“I’m sorry. Look, I, I know that you’re feeling a lot of things right now. You may even be feeling responsible. But if you can just try and see through your, your guilt and your anger then maybe you can look past this Western Empiricism.”
“I’ll make sure to consult my tarot cards when I’m not looking for a new job. Thank-you… Melissa, I have lost somebody. I would like to deal with it in my own way.”

Through the tears he smiled at Melissa’s stubborn mystic optimism and Scully’s own adamant adherence to pragmatism and facts. They were much more alike than he had ever realised. Two sides of the same coin. Sisters through and through. Mulder let the tears fall for Scully’s loss.

*****

Mulder’s own surprise mirrored that which he heard in his partner’s voice as she answered the door.

“Frohike?”
“I know it’s late but I heard the news… Maybe I should go. Pardon my presumptuousness.”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Do you recycle?”

Mulder chuckled at the image of a drunk and more-dishevelled-than-usual Frohike sitting at the table of Dana Scully in the middle of the night while she made them both coffee. He wondered why neither of them had ever told him about this conversation.

“He was a good friend. A redwood among mere sprouts. I guess this means he’s passing you the torch.”
“Ah, I’m afraid not. I’m soon to be out of a job.”
“Those sons of bitches. They’re rigging the game.”
“And like rats they just scatter back into the wood pile.”
“The rats that killed the cat.”

Mulder listened as Scully read from what he assumed was a newspaper article. He smiled as he heard the exact moment she got back in the game. Despite herself, Scully had become just as invested in the truth as he was. And she had always been passionate about justice. She was never going to walk away, whether he was dead or not. It just wasn’t in her. Her drive and her sense of morality were too strong to be defeated by a few men in suits - FBI or Consortium.

****

“Dana, what’s wrong? You sounded so upset on the phone.”

Mulder smiled as he realised that the last conversation he heard between the sisters was not their last conversation before Melissa’s death. He knew if it had been, Scully would be torturing herself about it.

“Missy, I… I went to the FBI today, for a meeting. And I had to go through the front entrance, through the metal detectors. And, and I set them off. I got the security guard to run the wand over me…”
“What, Dana? What happened?”
“The wand beeped when he waved it over my neck. I went to a doctor and he did an x-ray. He extracted this.”
“This was… inside you?”
“I don’t even know how long it’s been in there. I have absolutely no recollection of it being put there.”
“That is frightening. Dana, this is very serious. You gotta find out what this is.”
“I don’t have access to the FBI labs.”
“No. I’m, I’m talking about access to your own memory.”
“Oh Melissa.”
“Obviously you have buried this so deeply you can’t consciously recall it.”
“Melissa!”
“I know someone, someone who can help you - ”

Mulder jumped as he heard a loud bang emanate from the stereo.

“NO!”
“What are you so afraid of, Dana? You afraid you might actually learn something about yourself? God, I mean you are so, you are so shut off to the possibility there could be any other explanation except for your rigid scientific view of the world. It’s like you’ve lost all touch with your own intuition. You’re carrying so much grief and fear that you can’t see you’ve, you’ve built up these walls around your true feelings and the memory of what really happened. Just do this for me. As your sister. Please!”

Mulder recognised the Scully in this conversation. It was his Scully. It was his stubborn, rational, logical Scully who refused to see and hear what was right in front of her. He regretted the loss of a potential ally in the crusade to get Scully to consider extreme possibilities. Who knows what they could have achieved if he and Melissa had been able to work together?

“Missy…”
“What have you got to lose, Dana? Really? Where’s the harm?”
“Who… who is this person you think can help me? How do you think they can help? I’m not going anywhere near any of that reiki crap, I’ll tell you that right now.”
“He is not a reiki master. He is, in fact, a doctor. Don’t look at me like that! He is a real doctor, well a psychologist. He specialises in regression hypnotherapy. He can help you uncover your memories, Dana. I truly believe that.”
“Melissa, there is very little evidence that regression hypnosis is accurate in any real sense. There is a lot of concern in the medical community that it produces false memories and perpetuates delusions.”

So that’s what you think of my memories of Samantha’s abduction, Scully? I wonder, do you think they’re false memories or that I’m deluded, he thought, smiling wryly.

“There is also a lot of credible research that suggests, when implemented properly by a trained psychologist with the right controls, regression hypnotherapy can be both highly therapeutic and valid. These are peer-reviewed studies being conducted in universities by scientists, Dana.”

Damn, she is good, Mulder thought, smiling.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You don’t remember anything. Or you do and you discredit it. How are you any worse off then than you are now?”
“Fine. What’s this man’s name?”

Mulder realised that this explained something that he had never understood but never really gotten a chance to ask Scully about. After the incident with Cassandra on the bridge where all those bodies had been burnt, he had convinced Scully to see Dr Heitz Werber, his own hypnotherapist. Dr Werber had asked her if she had ever been hypnotised before and she admitted she had. He assumed she had been pulled out of the crowd at a Vegas show or something. Not that she had once before tried to uncover repressed memories. Obviously, it hadn’t been very effective. He knew for a fact that she didn’t remember what happened to her during her missing time. And he knew she remained highly skeptical of regression hypnotherapy. It occurred to him that she must desperately want to know what happened to her during those months and on that bridge for her to agree to do something she considered so far-fetched. He wished, not for the first time, that there was something more he could do to help her.

Mulder listened to her strong, accusing voice as she spoke to Skinner on the phone, asking him why he had gone to her apartment. He listened to her speak to Missy again after what, he quickly realised, would have been his father’s funeral.

“Missy, something strange happened to me today. I’m… I’m a bit freaked out by it.”
“OK. Look, I, I, I wanna come over. I wanna talk to you. Are you gonna be there for a while?”
“Yeah, yeah I will.”
“OK. I’ll see you in a bit.”

It shook him, hearing Scully so shaken. That so rarely happened. He knew that she had been told at his father’s funeral that an attempt was going to be made on her life. That someone she trusted would come to her home and kill her. When she told him about it, she was back in control and her usual stoic Scully self. He found it disconcerting to hear the uncertainty in her voice when she spoke to her sister. He heard her answer the phone again in a tone that suggested she knew who it was and then the telltale click that indicated it was being tapped. He heard her call Melissa and tell her machine that she would come to her and look for her on the way. Mulder sighed deeply, knowing that Scully would never see or speak to her sister again. His breath caught in his chest as the tape played muffled whispers and the sound of furniture being bumped. He heard the sound of a door opening and jumped as the ear-shattering burst of a gunshot resounded around him.

“Oh no… Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s get out of here.”

Mulder sat up as he recognised Krycek’s voice. That rat-bastard! He killed Scully’s sister. Or at least was there - they were fairly certain that Louis Cardinale had been the one to pull the trigger but the fact that Alex Krycek was present was at once both shocking and unsurprising. Mulder seethed at the idea that Krycek killed both his father and her sister. That they had worked with him and against him over and over again throughout the years without ever knowing this important truth. He truly was worse than scum. Mulder was equally disgusted by the idea that the Consortium had kept this particular piece of audio. What, did they like listening back to the sounds of their ineptitude and failure, hearing the death of an innocent? Mulder swallowed down bile and took some deep breaths to regulate his erratic heartbeat. His fury at the shadow men and Krycek was quickly overshadowed by a guilt-infused sense of relief. He grieved Scully’s loss and hated that Melissa had died but he couldn’t help but be grateful that it wasn’t Scully herself. Even now, the idea that it could have been the sound of her body collapsing on the floor instead of her sister’s made his chest tighten and his eyes burn. Mulder ran his hands through his hair as he paced his small apartment with kinetic frustration. His body tingled with the need to do something. He wanted to punch Krycek in the face. He wanted to pull Scully into a tight embrace and never let her go. He wanted to smash the stereo that was the conduit for this overload of information. He stormed into his bedroom to change into his workout gear. He hoped going for a long, hard run would help relieve some of his physical tension and help him to clear his mind. What was he going to tell Scully? And how? He couldn’t keep this from her but to tell her would be to tell her everything. He would have to admit to his betrayal and invasion. Fuck!

Chapter Text

Mulder fumbled with his key as he tried to catch his breath, open the door and grab his ringing home phone.

“Hello?”

“Mulder, are you OK?” The concern in her voice was palpable.

“Yeah, I’m good, Scully.”

“You sound… breathless.” Now she sounded curious.

“Oh, yeah. I literally just came in from a run.”

“Oh, OK.”

“Is… everything OK with you?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas.”

“Aw, thanks, Scully.”

An expectant silence fell between them.

“Mulder?” she prompted.

“Scully?”

“Well, aren’t you… I mean… um, usually…” she trailed off, clearly unsure how to phrase her question.

“Oh, I’m not going to wish you Merry Christmas until I see you in person.”

“But Mulder, Christmas will be over by then.”

“Don’t care. I’ve decided I don’t give holiday greetings over the phone.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

“Why?”

Mulder shrugged and though he knew she couldn’t see it, he suspected she knew exactly what he was doing. Because he knew she was shaking her head at him in exasperation, even as she let a smile form on her lips because he wasn’t there to see it so she didn’t have to suppress it like she usually tried to.

“So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?” she asked, changing the subject.

Mulder gulped. He didn’t want to lie to her but he certainly didn’t want to tell her the truth over the phone. He would tell her about the surveillance of course, but not on Christmas Day and not when she was over 2000 miles away. Besides, he had to figure out how to phrase it. So far the best he had was: Hey Scully, guess what? Your home and phone have been consistently bugged for nearly seven years and I’ve just listened to a whole bunch of your private and personal conversations. So, what presents did you get? And somehow he didn’t feel like that would go over too well. However, come to think of it, maybe having her on the other side of the country when he told her wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

“Mulder? You there?”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry Scully. I’m here. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you were going to head over to the Gunmen’s? I figured Frohike might have an interesting take on Christmas dinner.”

“I’m sure he does, but not this year. They’re too busy prepping for Y2K.”

Mulder smiled at her groan.

“That. Is. Not. A. Thing! Nothing is going to happen. Planes will not fall from the sky. Computers will not explode. We will not face the sudden rise of Skynet at 12:01am on January first, 2000.”

Mulder was chuckling at her pronounced irritation when he properly registered her last sentence. “Wait, Scully, did you just make a ‘Terminator’ reference?”

She made a non-committal sound into the phone.

“Have you been holding out on me? Are you secretly a sci-fi action movie buff?”

“Mulder, everyone’s seen ‘Terminator’.”

“No. Not everyone. I would have bet money on you not having seen it.”

“Well, you would have lost your money.”

“What else, Scully? What else don’t I know about you?” He meant to say it jovially, keeping with their light banter, but it came out a little more serious, a little more desperate, than he had intended.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mulder,” she whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it, so he didn’t respond.

After a moment he cleared his throat and tried to move them back into safer territory.

“So, d’you get any fun new toys, Scully?”

“Mulder, I’m a woman in my thirties. No, I didn’t get any toys.”

“I don’t know, I think there’s plenty of single women who would like something battery operated in their stocking.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. This is it, Mulder thought. I’ve finally pushed her too far. That was one inappropriate comment too many.

“Scully, I -”

And then Scully snorted into the phone. It wasn’t appalled silence he had heard, it was Scully’s silent laugh - the one where she laughs so hard that no sound can escape.

“Mulder! I can’t believe you just said that!” she exclaimed, still trying to get her laughter under control.

“Frankly, neither can I,” he replied, smiling with relief and pride that he had made her laugh so hard she lost the ability to breathe.

“Dana? Are you OK?” Mulder heard Bill’s voice through the phone. And then he heard Scully burst into another round of giggles and her brother’s frustrated sigh.

“You’re not going to tell him the joke?” Mulder asked, hoping to prolong the ambrosial sound of Scully’s mirth.

It worked. She laughed again and Mulder closed his eyes to revel in it.

“Would you like me to put him on the phone so you can tell him what you just said to his little sister?”

“No, thank-you.”

“Oh, Bill!”

“Scully! No! Please!” He was 99 percent sure she was joking but that one percent was enough to make him panic.

“Relax, Mulder. He’s not here. Mom and Tara and Matthew are down at the beach and he just left to join them.”

Mulder let out a relieved breath. “You don’t want to go down too?”

“I will. It’s nice to have some quiet time, though.”

“Of course, I’ll let you go-”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, after four days of non-stop family fun, a little breather is welcome. I don’t need actual quiet.”

“You mean talking to me counts as respite in this scenario? Geez, it must be bad, Scully.”

She chuckled at his self-deprecation. “Actually, I’m having a nice time. Bill is behaving himself, mostly. And Matthew is at the wonderful babbling toddler age. I’m fairly certain we’ve discussed both the meaning of life and quantum physics. And I think he had some valuable insights - if only I could understand toddler gibberish.”

Mulder laughed and was relieved to hear that Scully was not dwelling too much on the horrific events of the last Christmas she was in California with her family.

As if reading his mind, she said, “It’s nice to be able to see them but not have to be in that house. It means I’m not thinking about… things too much. I’m so grateful Tara suggested getting a beach house. It’s actually been a really lovely break.”

Mulder smiled gently into the phone. “I’m really glad, Scully. You deserve an actual vacation.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I’m coming back earlier than I thought.”

“Why? You’re not supposed to be back until the fifth.” Mulder knew that because he had circled the date in his calendar. Two whole weeks without Scully was not something he relished but he wanted her to enjoy her vacation.

“Well, it seems there was a bit of a miscommunication. Tara rented the house for two weeks, but Mom and I were only supposed to stay for one. Her parents are coming on the 29th. And there’s not enough space for us all to stay. So I got an earlier flight.”

Mulder suppressed the selfish side of himself that was doing cartwheels at the idea of her coming home early. “But if you’re having a nice time, couldn’t you work something out?”

“I probably could but I’m happy to come home. I am having a lovely time but I think one week is sufficient. Any longer than that and I think I would be starting to go a little nuts. I fly back on the 29th so I’ll see you at work on the 30th.”

He worked very hard to keep the elation out of his voice. “Are you sure, Scully? You don’t have to come back to work straight away. You are on leave until the fifth.”

“I’m sure. Unless… I mean I don’t have to come back in. If you would rather I didn’t - “

“No! Scully, no! I am definitely very happy to have you back at work as soon as you want to be there. I mean, if that’s what you want. I could go either way…”

“How many pencils are in the ceiling, Mulder?”

“Um, we might need a new stationary order early in the new year.”

Mulder was gifted another gentle laugh. This vacation really had been good for her. He had heard her laugh more in the last few minutes than he had for the last couple of years. He wondered if he could find a way to bottle whatever it was that had relaxed her so much.

“Do you need me to pick you up from the airport?” He wasn’t above trying to see her even earlier.

“No, thanks. I left my car in long-term parking. But I’ll see you bright and early Thursday morning.”

Mulder grinned. “Looking forward to it.”

Mulder glanced at his stereo as he hung up the phone. He should stop now. There was no reason for him to continue listening. And maybe he could find a way to explain his actions so far. But if he kept listening, if he deliberately chose to put the next tape in, he couldn’t justify it. Though, really, what could he say to exonerate himself at this point, anyway? In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought as he hit play.

“Hello?”
“Hi Dana.”
“Ellen! How are you?”
“Exhausted. But we’re here now.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve moved to Hawaii!”
“Oh I can! Do you have any idea what it’s like to move you and your husband’s whole life and that of a nearly-eight year old not just half-way across the country but essentially half-way around the world?”
“I can honestly say I don’t.”
“To say it’s excruciating would be the understatement of the century. Trent was less than enthusiastic about saying good-bye to his friends. But at least he got to see out the school year.”
“I’m sure he’ll be excited once he adjusts.”
“Oh, he’s already excited. He’s been bribed with a summer full of surfing lessons.”
“What about you? How are you feeling about it all?”
“Honestly, I’ve been so focused on the actual move, I haven’t really thought about the living here part. I think it will be good, though. The lifestyle seems so relaxed. And John’s excited about the new job. I’m a bit worried about making friends, though. All my friends back home were from college, work, or the parents of Trent’s friends. He’s getting too old for structured play-dates now so I’m not sure how I’m going to meet new people.”
“I can offer you absolutely no advice on that. I haven’t met a new person who wasn’t a cop, a suspect, a victim, or a corpse in over two years. I’m not sure I would even remember how to have a small-talk based conversation.”
“You always hated small-talk anyway.”
“It’s such a waste of time! We all know what the weather is, I don’t care about your opinion on the latest Julia Roberts movie, and for the love of all that is holy please don’t tell me your recipe for the best spaghetti bolognese!”

Mulder chortled at Scully’s exasperation over chitchat. He knew there was a reason they had hit it off from the beginning. He and Scully had never engaged in inane chatter - they either spoke about the work or they discussed the big questions. Or they sat in comfortable silence.

“I’m not sure I’ll take that exact approach at the school gates.”
“Fair enough. What about going back to work?”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. I’m not sure if Trent is quite old enough, especially not with the move and everything but maybe next year. I thought I might try and do some volunteering in the meantime. I’ll feel useful and I might make some friends.”
“That’s a great idea, Ellen.”
“I know I sometimes give you a bit of a hard time about being single but you know I have a lot of respect for you, right?”
“Um, sure.”
“No, really, Dana. You’re so passionate about your job, you’re so committed to your values. You’re so unapologetically you. I admire that so much. I love John and Trent is my world but I want to be more than a wife and a mother. I want to find myself again. And seeing how you live your life is part of that. Moving has given me the chance to reinvent myself and I’m using you as inspiration.”
“Oh, Ellen, I’m not sure that I should be a role-model -”
“I’m not going to join the FBI or become a doctor or chase whatever unmentionable things it is that you chase. But I’m going to find my passion. I’m going to find my purpose. I’m going to find a way to give back to the world. Because that’s what you do every day. And you do it on your own terms, in your own way, and because you want to. I don’t think you realise how rare that is, Dana. So many people just do what’s expected of them. Follow the path - go to college, get a job, get married, have kids, resent the job, and so on. But you don’t. You never have. And that’s impressive.”
“Um… thanks. I guess. I don’t really -”
“That’s not to say that I don’t think you should be having more sex. And when I say more, I mean some. Any. How long has it been now?”
“OK, can we get back to the part where I’m impressive and inspirational please?”
“No. We’ve moved on to the part where we discuss that you need to get laid. I don’t care about boyfriends and marriage and kids and all that. But Dana, you need to get some!”
“Get some?”
“I’m in the process of reinventing myself. Clearly, some approaches are going to be misfires. But let’s stay focused here. What about your partner?”
“What about Mulder?”
“Well, if you’re not going to sleep with him, can’t he introduce you to his friends or something?”
“I’ve met his friends and there is absolutely nothing in the entire cosmos that could get me to even contemplate the thought of them being sexual beings, let alone me having sex with them.”

Mulder laughed out loud as he imagined Scully imagining The Gunmen having sex.

“Well, that was emphatic.”
“I’m not sure it was emphatic enough. Besides, I’m pretty content in my life. Sure, sex would be great but I don’t really have the time or mental or emotional capacity to go out and find it.”
“So I repeat, what about your partner?”
“Ellen…”
“Look, you clearly care about him. You said he was cute. You’ve implied that he’s single. Why not?”
“I could write you a list as long as my senior thesis on why not.”
“OK, just give me the Cliff Notes version.”

Mulder held his breath. This was it. This was the reason, or rather the myriad of reasons, that Scully didn’t, doesn’t, and won’t ever want him.

“It’s complicated.”
“Dana -”
“No, that’s the Cliff Notes version. It’s too complicated. There is so much that is wrapped up with Mulder and our work that I couldn’t possibly begin to explain. And I don’t want to lose him. If we had sex, it could get messy. I don’t want to lose him as my friend and my partner.”
“But you would like something more?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“I really don’t think it is.”
“Ellen, please. Just drop it. It can’t happen. And besides, you’re making an assumption that he would want to have sex with me.”
“Well, duh! That’s a given.”

Yeah, Scully, Mulder thought, duh!

“Ellen, it’s really not. I don’t think I’m his type. And I think he might see me a bit like a little sister.”
“Do you see him as a brother?”
“No.”
“So why do you assume he sees you as a sister?”
“Complicated, Ellen. It’s all far too complicated.”
“I think I’m starting to understand your dry spell.”

Mulder couldn’t believe that Scully didn’t realise how much he desired her. Sure, he worked really hard at hiding it but he never thought he was particularly successful. He regularly flirted with her. He found any excuse to touch her. He invaded her personal space all the time. And she had to know she was gorgeous. Could she have really believed that he had no sexual interest in her at all? Though, this conversation seemed to imply that, at the very least, Scully had contemplated sex with him and he had never realised that. No, actually, that’s not true. He had thought, especially early on, that maybe she was attracted to him but he hadn’t trusted her yet. And then he figured she got to know him and realised what a big mistake it would be to fall into bed with him. And maybe that’s exactly what had happened. She was very loyal, he knew. Maybe she just didn’t want to bad mouth him to her friend. She didn’t want to come out and say, ‘Mulder is an unstable, pathetic loser with some serious emotional damage that I’m not touching with a 10 foot barge pole.’
At least she didn’t see him as a brother.

Chapter Text

Mulder ran a hand through his damp hair, realising that he had been so focused on his conversation with Scully and his eagerness to get back to the tapes, that he had forgotten to take a shower after his run. As he let the hot soapy water flow over his body he considered Scully's last conversation with Ellen. She implied that she was attracted to him but hadn’t actually said it - the hopeful side of Mulder wanted to believe but the hypercritical part of himself denied the possibility. She kept telling Ellen that it was complicated. She wasn’t wrong but was that a reason or an excuse? Maybe she was just genuinely concerned about the fallout of them getting involved - with the FBI, the Consortium, their friendship and their work. He knew he feared that - that they would be separated at work, that attempting a sexual relationship would destroy the best connection he’d ever had with another human. He had also thought, back then, that if the shadow men who were so intent on sabotaging him knew how he felt about Scully, then they could use her against him. He had since realised that they used her against him anyway - her abduction, her cancer, being infected with the virus in Antarctica - and he didn’t think it could hurt anymore than it already did. If he lost her now, he lost his world, whether or not he had had sex with her.

Dressed in fresh sweats, knowing that he would be doing nothing other than lying on his couch listening to tapes for the rest of the day, he emerged from his bedroom to the sound of his phone ringing again. Knowing that it wouldn’t be telemarketers on Christmas Day, he hoped that Scully was calling again. There was no reason why she should but he hoped that maybe she was missing him even a fraction of the amount he was missing her.

“Hello?” His tone was upbeat and hopeful.

“Merry Christmas, amigo!”

“Hey Frohike,” Mulder replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. He obviously failed.

“Sorry. I guess we’re not the people you were hoping to hear on the other end of the line?” Byers asked.

“He thought we were Scully,” Langly chimed in.

“Hoped more like,” Frohike added. “And who wouldn’t?”

Mulder sighed. He had never actually confessed his feelings for his partner to his friends but he suspected they knew how he felt. In fact, he suspected they may have realised before he did.

“What’s up, fellas? Aren’t you supposed to be madly printing everything you’ve ever saved to a computer in preparation for the end of the world as we know it?”

“We are. But we hadn’t heard from you and we were curious about whether the box you found was of any use?” Byers asked.

“Were there any accompanying candid pictures of the delightful Agent Scully?” Fohike leered good-naturedly. Scully had once told him that Frohike was the only man she had ever met who managed to be openly lewd but still be endearing at the same time.

“No images for you to add to the spank bank, I’m afraid, Frohike.”

“Yeah, cause he’s keeping them for his own!” Langly called out.

“Gentlemen, enough!” Byers intervened. “I doubt Agent Scully would appreciate being spoken about in such a manner.”

“You’re right, Byers. Thanks,” Mulder muttered, sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Langly mumbled, sounding for all the world like a chastised school boy.

“Hey, I only asked for photos. It was the other two degenerates who made it dirty.”

Sighing, Byers asked, “So?”

“So what?”

“So, was there anything useful in the box?”

“Oh, um. That depends,” Mulder replied, hedging until he decided exactly what to tell the Gunmen.

“Depends on what?” Langly urged. “Mulder, man, you’re killing us here!”

“Um, well, on what you define as ‘useful’. It’s mainly audio cassettes of recorded conversations. There are some computer files but only for cases that we investigated between March 1993 and December 1994. I, uh, haven’t had a close look at the documents yet but I doubt there will be anything particularly useful in there.”

“What are the recordings of?” Frohike asked.

“Ah, well, that’s the thing. It turns out this is one box of four - the others seemingly containing computer discs for other years. And as far as the audio surveillance goes… this box consists entirely of recordings of… uh… Scully’s home phone and apartment.”

“From when?”

“From the very start of our partnership through to practically the present, if the dates on the box are to be believed.”

“So you haven’t listened to them, then,” Byers asserted.

“Well, uh, I have listened to some.”

“And what does Agent Scully think about all this?” Byers asked.

“I, uh, haven’t exactly told her yet,” Mulder admitted.

“Mulder! You can’t listen to her private conversations without her knowledge!”

“I know! I know. But she’s on vacation with her family and I don’t want to interrupt that. I’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“And you won’t listen to the tapes in the meantime?”

Mulder didn’t want to lie to his friend so he stayed silent.

“Well, he should probably check if there’s anything pertinent on the tapes. There might be something he needs to follow up on immediately,” Frohike suggested.

“If the tapes date back to early 1993, I don’t see how urgent any of the information gleaned could be. Besides, it’s not like it’s your office or anything. Surely the conversations Scully has in her home are of no relevance to The X-Files.”

“Well, that’s the thing. The recordings have been curated. The only things on them are conversations that pertain to The X-Files… or to me.”

“How many conversations have you listened to, Mulder?”

“Um, well, I knew I shouldn’t keep listening once I realised what it was but I, well, it was… interesting. And insightful. And I couldn’t seem to make myself stop.”

“Mulder, how many?”

“I, uh, I’m up to the summer of 1995. Some of the conversations I’ve heard have included me, so I’d already heard them before, anyway.” Mulder tried to justify his actions, knowing full well they were unjustifiable.

“Hey! Didn’t we do a sweep of her place?” Langly interrupted, having apparently tuned out for the last part of the conversation and was still stuck on the fact that Scully’s place had been bugged since March 1993.

“That’s right. After you introduced us to her for the first time. After you guys found that bug in her pen,” Frohike answered. “I remember that. She wasn’t too happy to have us there.”

“She wasn’t happy about you snooping through her underwear drawer!” Mulder added.

“My point is that we should have found any listening devices then. But we didn’t find anything. Are you sure these tapes are legit, Mulder?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I hate to say it, boys, but apparently your debugging kung fu isn’t up to scratch.”

Mulder heard all three men gasp.

“You take that back!” Langly shouted.

“Mulder, man, that was uncalled for!” Frohike lamented.

“It is unusual for us to miss anything,” Byers mused.

“These guys are the best. I’m sure in normal situations, you boys would find everything. But they have access to technology that we can’t even fathom. Who knows how they managed it?” Mulder tried to appease his friends, realising that he had inadvertently seriously insulted them.

“True. They’re probably using alien tech that is undetectable. Maybe it’s not even physically located in the space,” Langly conceded.

“Probably.”

“Mulder, you can’t continue to listen to the tapes,” Byers warned him.

“Yeah, man. Scully will kick your ass if she knows you listened to her private conversations,” Frohike added.

“But… but it’s only conversations she’s had with me or about me or the work. Mostly.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mulder.”

“Yeah, dude. She wasn’t expecting anyone to hear what she said. It’s not fair that you get to hear her private conversations about you without her knowledge.” Langly’s uncharacteristically moral approach made Mulder doubt his actions even more. He thought if anyone would be on his side about listening to the tapes it would be him.

“You need to stop listening, Mulder. Before you do some damage you can’t undo,” Frohike said quietly.

Mulder sighed. “Yeah, I know. You’re right. As soon as Scully gets back from her vacation, I’ll tell her about the tapes and see what she wants to do about it.”

“Will you tell her you listened to some of them?” Byers asked.

“Uh… I’m not sure. Probably. Yeah, probably.”

“Don’t, dude. She will be seriously pissed. Just tell her that you found them and once you figured out what they were, you left it til she got back. The truth in this instance isn’t your friend,” Langly suggested.

“I don’t usually advocate deception, but I think Langly might be right here, Mulder. I’m not sure Agent Scully would be forgiving about this trespass,” Byers agreed.

“Yeah, OK. Thanks guys. I’ll talk to you later. Good luck Y2K-proofing your stuff.”

“We don’t need luck,” Frohike asserted.

“Yeah,” Langly agreed. “Our kung fu is the best!”

“Goodbye, Mulder. Oh, and Mulder?”

“Yeah, Byers?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, boys.”

Mulder hung up the phone, feeling disgusted with himself. He knew the Gunmen were right. He knew he should never have listened to the tapes. And he knew he should stop now. But, really, he had already invaded her privacy. What would it matter if he stopped now or kept going? He would still either need to to lie to her or confess to his sin. Either way, he’d already started across the bridge. He may as well continue all the way to the other side. He put the next tape in and hit play.

“Hello?”
“Hey Scully. Whatcha up to?”
“Mulder, no.”
“What?”
“We only just got home at midnight last night. From a case that was a total bust. And it’s Saturday. I’m not chasing after any more cryptids with you until Monday. At the earliest.”
“Ouch, Scully! I was just calling to check that you got home OK last night. I was a bit worried about you driving when you were so tired.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. Yeah, it was fine. I rolled the windows down and played the radio loud. I got pretty used to driving after 30 hour shifts in med school so I’m an old hand.”
“Did you really think I was calling to drag you out on another case?”
“Well, yeah, Mulder. That’s usually why you call me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to bother you on your day off, Scully. I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.”
“It’s no bother, Mulder. As long as you’re not planning on making me get on a plane to hunt down goblins in Louisiana, I’m happy to talk to you.”
“Goblins in Louisiana?”
“Or whatever.”
“Everyone knows that goblins are found in primarily cold climates, Scully. Being that they’re originally from Europe. We would be more likely to find them somewhere like Vermont. Did you know that the word ‘goblin’ is derived from the Greek word, ‘kobalos’ meaning ‘rogue’ or ‘evil spirit’?”
“You don’t actually believe in goblins, do you, Mulder?”
“You’re the one that brought them up, Scully.”
“To make a point.”
“And what point was that?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“No, Scully. Tell me. What point are you trying to make?”
“It’s just that our last few cases have been…”
“A waste of time?”
“You said it, not me.”
“We always have some cases that turn out to be non-starters, Scully. That’s just how it works. We just happen to have had a bit of a streak recently.”
“That’s because you’re entirely non-discriminatory.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you did get a tip on goblin activity in Vermont or whatever, we would probably go and investigate it.”
“So, you don’t think what we do is valuable?”
“That’s not what I said, Mulder. And you know I don’t believe that. Don’t put words in my mouth. I just think that sometimes you are so restless and impatient that you chase after invisible monsters. I think you could afford to be more discerning with the cases you choose to pursue. The cases you choose for *us* to pursue.”
“More discerning?”
“Mulder, you can’t possibly take offence at this. We just got back from three days in Tennessee chasing after a Wampus Cat. Which didn’t exist.”
“But there were crimes being committed.”
“Yes. Crimes that could have been, and in fact were, investigated and solved by the local police with support from the Memphis Field Office. It was clear from the start that this was a hoax. Someone using the local myth to cover their own crimes and cause mass panic. We contributed nothing to the investigation, Mulder. In fact, all we did was contribute to the panic as we gave credence to the ridiculous story causing already anxious parents to literally lock their children inside, fearing for their safety. Children were not even the victims of this perpetrator’s crimes, it was just an added bonus for him to witness the hysterical terror he caused. He must have loved it when we showed up.”
“But Scully, we can’t know that these things are a hoax until we investigate them.”
“I think sometimes we can, Mulder. And I think the Wumpus Cat is a good example of a case that we could have safely ignored.”
“Well, that’s your opinion.”
“Yes it is.”
“I guess it’s a good thing that you’re not the one making decisions on our cases, then. We would never investigate anything. Though, I’m sure the boys in accounting would love it. We’d save a fortune on our expenses.”
“Mulder, you’re not being fair. And we’re both tired. Maybe we should table this conversation for another time.”
“But Scully -”
“Mulder, I don’t want to fight with you about this.”
“Are we fighting?”
“We’re getting very close because you’re being fractious and refusing to hear what I’m saying.”
“I do hear you, Scully. I just don’t agree with you.”
“OK, fine.”
“I guess I’ll see you in the office on Monday.”
“I guess you will.”

Mulder winced at his past self. He really was being fractious and deliberately obtuse. The thing was, Scully was right. And he had known she was right. They hadn’t even been asked to investigate the Wampus Cat case. He had read about it and decided to file for a 302. He was surprised when it was granted but he wasn’t about to question it. There hadn’t been much coming through the basement office over that summer (in fact summer tended to be very quiet for X-Files cases for some reason) and he had, in fact, been restless. He had also been worried that if given the opportunity to consider all she had lost and suffered while being assigned to The X-Files, Scully might come to her senses and finally ask for a transfer. So he had tried to find things to keep them busy. Unfortunately they had all been hoaxes, misunderstandings, or some other waste of time. So rather than distracting her from the dangers of the job, he had just been highlighting all the other pitfalls. And he had become obstinate when she called him on it.

“Hello?”
“So, there’s been reports of goblin activity in Michigan…”
“Mulder!”
“Look, Scully. You were right. I’ve been jumping at anything that has come across my desk lately. I promise I will be more circumspect going forward.”
“You know I don’t think what we do is a waste of time, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Really, Mulder. I wouldn’t be here if I thought that. I know what we do is important, valuable. I respect the work. And I respect your judgement. Most of the time. But your judgement has been off lately.”
“Yeah, I know. I was just… trying to keep us busy. But you’re right. I shouldn’t waste our time, energy, and resources on cases that have no legs. I promise our next case will be legitimate. I’ll even clear it with you before I request the 302.”
“Don’t push yourself too far out of your comfort zone, Mulder.”
“Haha.”
“Wait, did you just say I was right? Twice? In one conversation?”
“I’ll see you on Monday, Scully. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Wait, Mulder! Can I get that in writing, please? That I was right. I would like Skinner to sign off on it too.”
“Goodnight Scully.”
“Goodnight Mulder.”

Chapter Text

Mulder poured himself another cup of coffee and grabbed a piece of cold pizza and settled himself back on the couch.

“Hi Mom.”
“Hi honey. What was so important you couldn’t tell me on the phone?”
“Come in. I’ve got some news.”
“So I gathered.”
“Do you want some coffee?”
“Dana…”

Suddenly Mulder knew exactly where Scully had learnt that perfect warning tone she used with him so often.

“OK. Come and sit down.”
“Dana, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Nothing bad. You know how when we were kids we begged to get a dog? And you and Ahab never let us get one?”
“We moved too much, it would have been unfair to the dog. Besides, I knew I would have ended up being the one to take care of it.”
“About that… I, uh, got a dog and I was hoping you might be able to look after him when I go away for work?”

Mulder chuckled at how Scully said her words in a rush, as if saying them quickly would make them more acceptable - like ripping off a bandaid. He felt like he had just got an insight into teenage Dana when she wanted something or was confessing to a minor misdemeanour.

“What?”

He heard Scully’s footsteps walk away from the living room and return a moment later.

“Mom, meet Queequeg.”
“Dana! You got a dog?!”

Mulder wasn’t sure the thing actually constituted a dog - he thought that was an overly generous assessment. At best it was a yapping furball. As if it could hear his thoughts through time, the dog started its high-pitched attempt at barking.

“Ssshhh Queequeg! We’re trying to make a good impression here.”
“Dana, why on Earth would you get a dog?”
“It wasn’t planned. He was, kind of, a gift.”
“A gift?! What in the - Why would Fox buy you a dog?”

Mulder choked on his coffee. Why the hell would Mrs Scully think he bought that rodent-like excuse for a canine for Scully? He was insulted. If he were to get Scully a dog it would be a real dog, not that walking piece of fluff.

“Why would you think Mulder gave him to me?”
“Well, who else? I know it wasn’t me or your brothers. Who else is there in your life to give you a gift? Of any kind.”
“Mom…”
“You don’t see your old friends. And you certainly don’t make any new ones.”
“Mom, my work - “
“I’m sure there are plenty of FBI agents who have a social life - spouses, families. At the very least, friends.”

Mulder only vaguely registered Scully’s frustrated sigh. His stomach clenched at the idea that Scully had become as much of a loner as he was. He had realised, of course, that she never really spoke about her friends or her social life. But he never really thought much about it. Since his social life consisted of adult videos and the occasional pizza with the Gunmen, he never considered that Scully might have been missing something. That wasn’t fair. She deserved so much more from her life.

“I have friends, Mom!”
“Really?”
“Ellen!”
“She lives in Hawaii.”
“That’s hardly my fault!”
“When was the last time you saw Kathy?”
“I’m not sure. She was on that tour for a while…”
“That was nearly two years ago.”
“It wasn’t, was it? And how do you know?”
“Sweetie, I don’t mean to nag. I’m just worried about you. I know you’re passionate about your job but I’m concerned that that’s the only thing in your life.”

As if on cue, Queequeg yapped enthusiastically.

“Not anymore.”
“Dana -”
“Look, I understand and appreciate your concern, Mom, I really do. But I’m happy in my life. I am. I love my job. It does make it difficult to make plans but I’m OK with that. I like my down time alone; I need that time to decompress. And I have you. And I talk to Ellen on the phone. And I have…”
“Yes?”

Yes, Scully?

“And now I have Queequeg.”
“That’s not what you were going to say.”

Mulder could hear the stubbornness emanating from both women in the silence. He wondered who would cave first.

“You know I like Fox -”
“Mulder.”
“I know how much he cares for you. And I can tell he’s a good person - kind, compassionate, driven, passionate, intelligent. But there’s darkness there too -”
“Mom -”
“I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing. Maybe darkness isn’t the right word. It’s a sadness, a hollowness, one that I’m afraid he’s going to suck you into to try and fill that void inside him. And I’m not sure you can. Dana, I know you. You’ll keep giving him more and more, even at the expense of your own well-being. Even when you can’t help him.”

Mulder sucked in a breath. Margaret Scully had seen right through him to his core. She had seen the loneliness and desperation and damage in him that he thought he managed to hide from the world - most of the time. But she was wrong about one thing. Scully did help. Just by him knowing her and knowing she existed in the world she helped heal him.

“He’s my partner and my friend. Of course I’m going to help him. Support him. But I’m not going to lose myself in the process. My life is my choice.”
“I believe you think that. But it’s so easy to lose yourself in love -”
“I don’t love Mulder!”

Mulder had a visceral reaction to her emphatic words. He felt like he had been literally kicked in the guts and his lungs evaporated of air accordingly.

“Of course you do. I don’t know if you’re *in love* with him - that’s not for me to say - but of course you love him, Dana. And he loves you. People don’t do what you two do for each other without the motivation of love. You have a formidable and potent bond. Your connection is so strong that it’s almost frightening. And that kind of devotion can be overwhelming. I don’t want you to drown in it.”

Mulder listened to the silence as he tried to regulate his breathing again. He waited for Scully’s protest, her denial, her anger. It didn’t come.

“It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I lost myself for a while with your father. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he tried not to get too involved because he knew that he would be getting shipped out eventually. But my feelings for him were just so strong that I couldn’t imagine my life without him. And I mean any aspect of my life - my day to day existence needed him in it. I stopped seeing my friends, I stopped my hobbies and interests, I rarely spent time with my family. I only wanted to be with him. And that’s normal at the start of a relationship, of course. But it lasted longer than it ever had with any of my friends. It was stronger and longer than anything I’d ever experienced in my previous relationships. It wasn’t just young love and infatuation. I felt an actual physical ache when I was away from him for any length of time, especially if I couldn’t speak with him on the phone. Then, he got deployed. And he was just gone. I thought my whole world had collapsed. I couldn’t even talk to him. I would spend hours writing letters that I wasn’t sure he was even going to get. So I had to find myself again. I had to figure out who I was without him. My friends were very understanding and forgiving. I took up sewing again and learnt how to design my own clothes. I started reading again - I had been a voracious reader but found I couldn’t concentrate on a novel after I met Bill. I learnt how to paint, or I tried to. I went back to church regularly and started volunteering. I met new people and discovered new interests. I still loved Bill very much and missed him desperately but I was my own person again. Which is why when he finally marched off that ship and proposed, I could accept knowing that I loved him and wanted to marry him… but that I didn’t *need* to. I could exist and flourish without him. We were better together and we complemented each other, but we were whole apart. We were therefore able to give to each other, rather than just take.”
“It’s not like that with me and Mulder -”
“No, it’s not. It’s far more complex. Missy told me once that she thought you were soul mates.”
“Mom!”

Mulder swore he could hear her rolling her eyes.

“I think that’s as good a phrase for it as any. Your attachment goes well beyond friendship and loyalty. Maybe even beyond love. Just make sure you keep yourself so you continue to have something to share and give to him.”
“...So will you look after the dog or not?”

Mulder tried to process everything he had just heard while Scully and her mother discussed the logistics of dog-sitting. Before he could really consider Maggie’s warning to Scully, and what it implied, a new conversation started on the tape.

“What about internet dating?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Internet dating. So you can find a lover.”
“Hi Ellen. How are you?”
“Listen, I was just talking to a friend of mine. She’s divorced and she’s been using chatrooms and stuff to meet men. She doesn’t want a relationship either. She said it’s been great. You get to know someone, if you click, you meet up and if you, you know *really* click then… that’s great.”
“No.”
“Just hear me out. Apparently it’s not just for desperate losers anymore. And besides, you’re not looking for a relationship so you won’t ever have to tell anybody how you met. Rachel says that it’s much less time-consuming than doing the whole bar thing. Once you meet in person you both know what you’re there for and there’s less of that awkward flirting, trying to sus each other out.”
“No.”
“I’m not saying you have to be a slut about it. It just might be a nice way to relieve tension -”
“Ellen! I am absolutely, definitively, positively never ever going to use online chatrooms to find a date!”
“Wow. OK. I didn’t think you would be so judgemental.”
“I’m not. I’m sorry. We just had a case where women were targeted through online chatrooms. They were murdered. Brutally. You should tell your friend to be careful. Make sure someone always knows where she is and she should have someone to check in with.”
“Oh. That’s horrible. Oh God!”
“I’m sorry, Ellen. I shouldn’t have told you that. I know you thought you were being helpful. I’m sure your friend will be fine. But she should be careful, regardless.”
“She said she felt so much safer doing that way than meeting someone in a bar…”
“I mean, meeting a stranger in a bar isn’t particularly safe either. I’m sure they each have their advantages and their drawbacks. Just make sure she has some things in place to keep her safe. As much as she can. I’m not saying she needs to stop doing what she’s doing. But maybe getting to know the guy first wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Even if she doesn’t want a relationship. Maybe she could find one guy and create a kind of ‘friends with benefits’ situation.”
“Dana Katherine Scully! Is that what you’ve done? Do you have a friend with benefits?”
“No. And don’t you dare mention Mulder.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And can you please stop worrying about my sex life? I promise, I’m OK. I don’t need any schemes or strategies. I’m happy with my life as it is.”
“OK. I’m sorry.”
“I know. But no more, OK?”
“Promise. So you said brutally murdered? What happened?”
“You know I can’t tell you, Ellen. Um, your friend isn’t overweight is she?”
“No, why?”
“No reason. Hey, how’s Trent going in his new school?”

Mulder couldn’t help but be relieved that Scully wasn’t having sex back then. He knew it wasn’t fair. But he couldn’t help it. It fed his ego to think that she was so wrapped up in the work - in him - that she had neither the time nor the inclination to find a lover. From what he had heard on the tapes, she hadn’t been with anyone since she had broken up with that Ethan guy. He did feel a little guilty about that. He had been sexually active in the early days of their partnership - nothing serious; exactly what Ellen was trying to get Scully to do. A few dates here and there, mostly women from around the FBI - secretaries and so forth, never other agents. He could be charming when he wanted to be so it had never been difficult to get dates. He had never wanted it to go any further, adamantly didn’t want a relationship, not since Diana left him. But then, after working with Scully he had started to lose interest in dating. And after her return from her abduction he didn’t go on another date. He just had no interest in being with anybody else, in any capacity. Not even to “relieve tension” as Ellen put it - that’s what his videos were for. He couldn’t help but wonder at Scully’s reasons. Ellen clearly seemed to think it had something to do with him. But he knew that he kept her very busy with The X-Files, constantly on the road, constantly in danger - maybe she didn’t feel right bringing someone else, even casually, into that equation. Which would be very Scully - putting someone else’s wellbeing (even a theoretical someone) before her own desires. And at the time she had this conversation with her friend he would have sworn that she would never meet someone in a bar and go home with them, knowing as she did the dangers and statistics. Clearly, given her actions a year later, he had been wrong about that. Sometimes he thought he knew Scully so intimately and so entirely, but then she would do something and he realised that there were so many more layers to her. Hearing these tapes just confirmed that. Sometimes, he could absolutely hear ‘his’ Scully - the woman he knew and respected and admired… and loved. And then other times, it was like he was listening to a stranger. Like he didn’t know this woman at all. There was a whole other aspect to Scully that didn’t belong to him. That made him sad.

Mulder was trying to essentially profile Scully based on what her mother and Ellen had said to her and her responses. But, as always, he was too close to profile effectively. He could never differentiate between astute insight based on observation and wishful thinking or extreme self-deprecation. On one hand, he sometimes believed Scully might love him as deeply and completely as he loved her. Other times, he was convinced that she put up with him out of a sense of loyalty, pity, and a hint of masochism. He could never apply objective thought to Scully when it came to her feelings about him. He had hoped that this insight into Scully, hearing her personal conversations about him, might help with that. But it seemed she held her cards as close to her chest with her family and friends as she did with him. At least she was consistent. Mulder was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of flesh hitting wood.

“You’ve got to get word to him.”
“Why should I trust you? You’ve lied to us before.”
“You’re wasting time. Do you understand?”
“Explain yourself.”
“They know, Agent Scully. They know he’s tracking the train. They know he plans to get onboard. He is doing their job for them. Warn him. Do it now before it’s too late.”

Mulder heard his own distracted voice.

“Mulder.”
“Mulder, don’t get on the train.”
“Why not?”
“Because they know where you are and they know what you’re doing.”
“Who told you that?”
“Look Mulder, it’s just too dangerous.”
“Who told you, Scully? Scully, it’s coming.”
“Let it go.”
“I can’t.”
“Mulder, don’t get on the train! Mulder! Mul-”

Mulder flinched as he heard the exact moment his phone went scattering off the roof of the train. Scully was so pissed at him about that. She was angry enough when she thought he was just getting on the train, when she found out he had literally jumped on it from an overpass she lost her shit. She told him that she didn’t know why the Consortium tried so hard to kill him when he would eventually do it himself with stupid stunts like that. He had smiled and told her that’s why he had his own personal saviour and doctor - two for the price of one; she could rescue him *and* tend to his boo-boos. She had not-quite-rolled her eyes at him and went back to completing the mountains of paperwork that he seemed especially skilled at generating.

Mulder only half listened to her conversation with X as she had told him the gist of it when she was explaining why it was so important that she discover more about the implant in her neck. He did register her anger masking her fear, though. She did worry about him. She did want him to be safe. She did care for him. The question was how much?

Chapter Text

“Mulder.”
“Mulder, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

Mulder hadn’t thought about it at the time, but why had Scully been trying to reach him all day? On a Saturday. Thinking back, she never had said what she wanted. He felt a small thrill go through him as he realised that maybe she had wanted to just talk to him as much as he wanted to just talk to her. He had tried to restrain himself from calling her for no work related reason, especially at the weekends, especially on her home phone. He wanted to. Very much. But he didn’t want to push his luck too much. But maybe, he wouldn’t have been. Maybe, if he had realised back then that Scully did actually want to spend her time with him or talking to him, he could be in a very different position now. He cursed his past self even as he listened to him rambling on about coloured lights in the skies of Massachusetts.

“Look Scully, I know it's not your inclination but did you ever look up into the night sky and feel certain, not only that something was up there but that it was looking down on you at that exact same moment and was just as curious about you as you are about it?”
“Mulder, I think the only thing more fortuitous than the emergence of life on this planet is that through purely random laws of biological evolution, an intelligence as complex as ours ever emanated from it. The very idea of intelligent alien life is not only astronomically improbable but at its most basic level, downright anti-Darwinian.”
“Scully, what are you wearing?”

Mulder smiled as he remembered the delight he felt at having made her laugh. He wouldn’t have minded, though, if she had described to him what she was wearing. Especially if what she was wearing hadn’t been very much… Maybe that was his problem. He hid all his flirtation with humour, so that she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable - and so that she couldn’t really reject him - but maybe she really didn’t see how much he actually meant all those throw-away comments he lobbed at her. The phone call ended with him hanging up on her.

“Hello?”
“I think you better get up here.”
“What is it?”
“It appears that cockroaches are mortally attacking people.”
“I’m not going to ask you if you just said what I think you just said because I know it’s what you just said.”

Mulder chuckled as he wondered if he should get that printed for her on a t-shirt. As much as she had never said that exact phrase to him before or since, he felt like it summed up her attitude to him and most of what he said the majority of the time. He listened to her being all Scully-like with her rational, scientific, logical explanations. How did she know so much off the top of her head? She wasn’t a practising doctor or scientist anymore, how did she just know about random fatal cockroach allergies? How could she have possibly anticipated that she would ever need that information? As he pondered this, a new conversation started playing on the tape and he remembered that she had also told him about Ekbom syndrome. She was a walking encyclopaedia or medical textbook. God, he loved her brain. He listened to himself apologise for disturbing her and her telling him bye. Then he laughed as he heard her shouting and some disgruntled yapping.

“Queequeg! Queequeg, get back here! Hey! No! You’re getting water and suds everywhere. Don’t even think about going into that bedroom! Queequeg! Not on the bed! God damnit, Queequeg!”

Mulder enjoyed the image in his head of a casual yet irate Dana Scully chasing a wet rodent around her immaculate home. She must have eventually caught up to the mutt because the next thing he heard was her answering the phone.

“Who died now?”
“The medical examiner. His body was found next to a toilet covered with roaches. I really think you should - “
“A toilet? Check his eyes. Is one of the bloodshot with a dilated pupil.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Well, it’s probably a brain aneurysm.”
“Brain aneurysm?”
“Straining too forcefully is a very common causation for bursting a brain aneurysm.”

Ever since that conversation he had been very conscious of never ‘straining too forcefully.’ What a way to go!

“Well, how do you explain the roaches, though?”
“Did you catch any?”
“Almost.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Mulder. I just hope you’re not implying you’ve come across an infestation of killer cockroaches.”

He never did tell her that her facetious comment was what encouraged him to check out, what turned out to be, Dr Berenbaum’s residence and home. He listened to her rattle off all the research she’d done. He smiled, thinking about the fact that she spent her Saturday night looking into something for him, that wasn’t even technically their case. Then again, Scully did embrace any opportunity to edify herself, which might start to explain why she knew so much about everything. He wasn’t sure how she stored it all, though - she wasn’t the one with the eidetic memory.

“Mulder, you’re not thinking about trespassing onto government property again, are you? I know you’ve done it in the past but I don’t think this case warrants -”
“It’s too late, I’m already inside.”
“Well? What’s going on? What do you see?”
“I’m in a house, it's apparently empty.”
“What’s the place look like?”
“It’s a, uh, typical two storey suburban house. Nice big living room, sparsely furnished, nice carpets. Fireplace. NIce kitchen. Modern appliances. Moving walls.”
“Moving walls?”
“Yeah, they’re rippling… Oh! Cockroaches!”
“What?”
“Cockroaches! They’re everywhere! Urgh! I’m surrounded!”
“Mulder, you’ve got to get out of there right now.”
“Noooo!”
“Are you alright? What happened?”
“My flashlight went out.”
“Mulder, what’s going on?”
“Gotta go.”
“Mulder! Mulder!!”

He frowned as he realised that she sounded genuinely worried about him. He knew that he was in no real danger but he never properly expressed that to her. She was sitting at home, researching cockroaches and worrying about his safety. And then he had fobbed off her return call.

“Not now.”

He was such a jerk.

Then he rang her in the middle of the night. He hadn’t registered at the time just how quickly she had answered the phone. It was as if she had it in her hand already. Surely she hadn’t been that worried about him?

“Mulder, are you OK?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“What happened at the USDA site?”
“Oh, they’re conducting legitimate experiments. I met an entomologist - a Doctor Berenbaum - who agrees with your theory of an accidental importation of a new cockroach species.”
“Did he give you any idea of how to catch ‘em?”
“No, but she did tell me everything else there is to know about insects.”
“She?”
“Yeah. Did you know that the ancient Egyptians worshipped the scarab beetle and possibly erected the pyramids to honour them, which may be just giant symbolic dung heaps?”

Bambi had been very attractive. It was the first time he had really been interested in another woman in a long time. Not really, not seriously, and certainly not for a relationship. But he had been attracted to her and had actually considered trying to seduce her. He had been fairly confident at the time that he had no chance with Scully and never would. And while, most of the time, he was content with his videos and his fantasies, Bambi had gotten under his skin somewhat. She had been assertive and confident and scientific and didn’t buy into his shit - oh fuck! He suddenly realised that she had reminded him of Scully. Obviously, they looked nothing alike (Bambi was more in keeping with his previous girlfriends) and really their personalities were very different. But the things he had found most attractive about Bambi were the things she had in common with Scully. Geez, some profiler he turned out to be. He couldn’t believe he had never realised that before.

“Did you know the inventor of the flush toilet was named Thomas Crapper?”
“Bambi also has this theory I’ve never come across -”
“Who?”
“Doctor Barenbaum. Anyway her theory is -”
“Her name is Bambi?”
“Yeah, both her parents were naturalists. Her theory is that UFOs are actually nocturnal insect swarms passing through electrical air fields.”
“Her name is Bambi?”

He smiled at the resentful jealousy in her voice. He had noticed it at the time but assumed it was professional rather than personal. Now he wasn't so sure. He secretly loved the idea of making Scully jealous.

“Scully, can I confess something to you?”
“Yeah, sure, OK.”

God, she sounded nervous. What the hell did she think he was going to tell her? If only he could know what was going through her mind. She clearly wasn’t anticipating a story about a childhood revelation resulting in a fundamental hatred of bugs.

“...I mean, the mysteries of the natural world were revealed to me that day but instead of being astounded, I was… repulsed.”
“Mulder? Are you sure it wasn’t a girly scream?”
“Ahhhh!”
“What was that?”
“Oh, I gotta go.”
“Mu, nuh, ah.”

At least she didn’t sound concerned this time when he hung up on her. Just resigned.

“What happened this time?”
“One of the motel guests died.”
“Mulder, I’m coming up there right now.”
“Scully, I think this man died simply as a reaction to the cockroaches.”
“Two cases of anaphylactic shock on the same day in the same town is highly improbable.”
“No, I, I’m saying that I think this man simply had a heart attack. Word about the cockroach infestation and deaths related to it has gotten out and I think this man simply saw some cockroaches and scared himself to death.”
“Regardless Mulder, something strange is definitely going on up there.”
“Maybe not. All your conjectures have proved correct. The exterminator did die from anaphylactic shock, the teenage boy did die from self-inflicted wounds and was getting high off methane fumes derived from burning manure, the medical examiner did die of a brain aneurysm.”

He wondered idly how many times he had told Scully she was right. On a case. In day to day life she was almost always right. But rarely did her scientific approach fully explain the cases they investigated. He did notice that he didn’t technically tell her she was right this time, either. ‘All your conjectures have proved correct.’ What an asshole! He couldn’t just say, ‘Hey, guess what Scully? You were totally right.’ Clearly, Scully wasn’t used to him telling her that her hypotheses were accurate because she started poking holes in her own theories.

“I still haven’t been able to explain the cockroaches at all those sites.”
“Or the fact that their exoskeletons are made of metal.”
“Metal? What are you talking about? Mulder? Mulder, I’m coming up there.”
“Whatever.”

He really wanted the ability to go back in time and punch himself in the face. How the hell did Scully put up with him? Why the hell did she continue to go out of her way for him? He was so fucking myopic that he never even realised how much she did for him. She sacrificed her weekend, choosing to drive up to Massachusetts in the middle of a Saturday night to support and protect him. And all for nothing - it was over before she got there. And he didn’t even thank her. In fact, if he remembered correctly, he told her she smelled bad. He’d always suspected that he didn’t deserve her; now he had multiple recorded examples of exactly how contemptible he really was. What he genuinely couldn’t understand was why she was still by his side. What on Earth could she possibly see in him, what did he offer her, that she would stick around after everything they’d been through and the shitty way he’d often treated her?

Chapter Text

“Hello?”
“Mulder, it’s me.”
“Hey Scully. Is everything OK?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Is it?”

She sounded confused and a little upset. He was trying to place the conversation in their timeline and was struggling to do so.

“Scully, what’s wrong?”
“That case was really weird, Mulder.”

Scully, that’s the definition of all our cases, he thought. That does not help me narrow it down.

“More so than all our other cases?”
“Well, yeah. You didn’t think so?”
“What did you find so strange about it? Surely not the girls themselves, that’s hardly up there with the most bizarre of our cases. And we’ve certainly dealt with odd and enraged townsfolk before.”
“No. No, it wasn’t the crimes or the girls or the town.”

Mulder listened to the silence. He knew the him of the past was waiting for Scully to formulate her thoughts. She sometimes needed time to construct her ideas, especially if what she was thinking was in any way contradictory to her usual stance. He knew then, as now, not to rush her or she would shut down completely. In the meantime he reflected on the case that he realised she was referring to. They had originally been called out to the small town of Comity to investigate a series of murders of teenage boys that the locals thought were due to ritual sacrifice. Scully was convinced from the start that it was just another instance of Satanic Panic. As it turned out, they were all wrong.

“It was us, Mulder.”
“Us?”
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t speak for you. I didn't feel like myself. And it didn’t feel like we were… us. Urgh! I’m not expressing this very well!”
“And what does ‘us’ feel like, Scully?”

Mulder remembered this conversation now. He couldn’t resist throwing in a suggestive comment, even as he had genuinely wanted to hear what Scully was trying to say. As usual, she just ignored his subtext.

“It feels like a team. We don’t agree, obviously, but we don’t agree in a productive way. It’s like… it’s like a dance. We come at things from a different perspective but we still work together. In Comity, it wasn’t like that. It was… scratchy.”
“You might say we lost our simpatico.”

Mulder smirked - for the second time - at her groan.

“Something like that. You… didn’t feel it?”

He didn’t think he had noticed her hesitancy when they had had their conversation. Now he realised that she sounded apprehensive, like she was nervous to hear his response.

“Of course I felt it, Scully. I didn’t feel like myself either. I mean, I usually know better than to make a crack about your size… when you’re armed.”

Scully’s chuckle helped dissipate the remaining tension that had persisted even after they left Comity.

“Mulder, I am sorry for my behaviour. I don’t know what got into me. I know you were just doing your job, I don’t know why I questioned your integrity. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Scully, there’s nothing to forgive. You question me. You always have and I hope you always will. You were just slightly more… combative than usual.”
“And you were significantly more disparaging than usual.”
“There is that.”

Mulder listened to the comfortable silence between them.

“As uncomfortable as the whole case was, there was an upside.”
“Oh yes? And what might that have been? Detective White?”
“No. That.”
“‘That’ what, Mulder?”
“That. You being jealous of Detective White. That was fun to watch.”
“I was not jealous.”
“Sure. Fine. Whatever.”
“Mulder!”
“I never did figure out who was wearing my favourite perfume…”
“You sniffed enough people. How do you have a favourite perfume, anyway?”
“That would be telling, Scully. I’ve got to keep some mystery about myself. How else will we keep the passion alive so that you continue to be jealous of every other female law enforcement officer I meet?”

Mulder remembered holding his breath after this comment. He was somewhat worried that she would take offence. He had hoped that by that point in their relationship she knew his sense of humour and knew that he would never actually question her professionalism in such a way, but there was a pang of anxiety that hit nevertheless. Thankfully, his instinct was right. Her derisive but amused snort told him that she recognised his jab for it was (mostly) - a joke. He couldn’t deny, though, that a very small part of him hoped that Scully would admit she was jealous and they could discuss why. Though he knew that would never happen. Even now, when he thought there was actually a chance she might have been genuinely jealous in a romantic or sexual way, he knew she would never admit to such a thing - she would assert that aliens were in the Whitehouse before doing that.

“Mulder! I was not jealous! I was… irritated. And I felt ganged up on. You two with your horned beasts.”
“Hmmm, we never did solve the mystery of the horny beast, Scully. I hope that puts your mind at rest.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“And it’s not just Detective White. You had a pretty strong reaction to Bambi a few weeks ago too.”
“I had a strong reaction to her ridiculous name.”
“Hey! Remember who you’re talking to.”
“I do, *Fox*. You’re the one that said I couldn’t call you by your first name because you hated it so much. You can’t have it both ways, you know.”
“I feel like this conversation has gotten away from me.”
“Goodnight, *Fox*.”
“Hey Scully?”
“Yeah?”
“Even when we’re scratchy, you’re still the only person I would ever want by my side. I hope you know that. Even when we’re not working as efficaciously as usual, we still… work.”
“I know, Mulder.”
“Goodnight, Scully.”

Mulder sighed as he realised that he never actually apologised to Scully for his behaviour on that case. He had been snide and dismissive of her. He knew it was because of the planetary alignments and he himself wasn’t entirely to blame. But the same was true of her behaviour and she had apologised to him. Had he ever actually apologised to Scully for his actions in all the time he had known her? He wasn’t sure he had. He thanked her on very rare occasions. And he tried, at times, to express how important she was to him, like he had in that conversation. But he couldn’t actually recall a time when he had explicitly said that he was sorry for his behaviour. No, wait. He had. Once. After he ditched her to follow the alien bounty hunter to the arctic. And she had followed him anyway and saved his life. Once in nearly seven years. He was such an ass.

Mulder put in the next cassette and was greeted with an unfamiliar male voice.

“Yeah, this is Craig Nemhauser. Please call me right away at 555 0143. I need to talk to you right away about a possible -”

The message was cut off. Scully clearly returned the call immediately but instead of the man from the message he heard his own preoccupied voice followed by Scully’s very confused one.

“Hello?”
“Mulder?”
“Scully?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Mostow’s studio.”

Mulder remembered the incident immediately as soon as he heard Mostow’s name. It had been the case that Patterson had, anonymously, called him in on. The serial killer who claimed to be possessed and whose killings continued even after he had been apprehended. Mulder had fallen deep into his old profiler black hole, trying to ascertain what happened. It had been a dark time. For him personally and his relationship with Scully.

“Are you with Nemhauser?”
“No. Should I be?”
“Well, that’s who I was calling. He left his number on my answering machine. He said he had to talk to me. Mulder?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know where he is?”
“I’m not sure.”

Mulder could hear the concern verging on fear in her voice. She had never quite seen him like that before. She didn’t know, at that point, the darkness that swallowed him up when he profiled. She hadn’t seen him completely immersed in the psychotic mind of a killer before. Not like this. Not when he followed Patterson’s rule of becoming the monster he was tracking. He knew that she had doubted his sanity - more so than usual - and had been afraid that he had succumbed to the darkness. She never turned her back on him, though.

“Mulder, that knife that we recovered from the crime scene, I think it’s the same one that Mostow used.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because Mostow’s was stolen from evidence.”
“When?”
“I was hoping maybe you could tell me. Your prints were all over it.”
“Yeah, I examined Mostow’s knife in the evidence room yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to hold it. I wanted to see what it felt like in my hand.”
“But why?”

He couldn’t articulate his process to her. Not then, not when he was immersed in it. That he had needed to hold the weapon, to imagine being Mostow holding it, to feel what he felt in order to think what he thought. She didn’t understand and that worried her, he knew. She could almost always read him, even then, and the fact that she lost that ability during the case is what caused her to doubt him.

“Look Scully, I didn’t *take* it.”
“OK Mulder, listen to me carefully. I want you to stay exactly where you are. I’m gonna be there in a few minutes and we’re gonna work this thing out together. OK? Mulder?”
“Yeah.”

He knew she had been worried about him. He thought she might have even wondered if he in fact had been the copycat killer, though she never outright accused him. But after this conversation she had turned up at Mostow’s studio just as he realised it was Patterson. Mulder had him at gunpoint and Scully came in and held her flashlight and gun on Mulder. He had snapped at her to get the light off him, telling her she didn’t understand. She had begged him to make her understand his behaviour. Then Patterson had fled, knocking her down in the process. Mulder told her it was Patterson and that was all she needed - she was right there by his side again, supporting him, backing him up, believing in him. When he had to shoot Patterson in self-defence, she came running to check if her partner was OK. She may have feared for him, perhaps even feared his actions, but she never stopped being his partner - she never even considered abandoning him. Mulder realised how true that was of Scully. He had always known it, but he never really stopped to consider it. Despite everything he had done, everything he had put her through, all the stupid choices he made, she was always by his side. She was the one person in his life who had never left him. It had taken him a long time to trust that part. He trusted Scully very quickly (one of the very few times his trust was correctly placed) but he had kept her at arm’s length for a long time because every single person he had ever cared for had left him in some way, be it physically or emotionally. The few times he had actually opened his heart to someone as an adult it had been pulverised, first by Phoebe then by Diana. The psychologist part of him realised that he sought out relationships that were untenable with women who were manipulative and cruel because he subconsciously believed that was all he was worthy of. That he deserved to be treated badly because that’s how he had always been treated - his sister had abandoned him to deal with his emotionally distant and neglectful parents alone. So when Scully came along he decided that he would not let himself get hurt again. But she had quietly snuck her way into his heart and soul. He didn’t realise it until she was missing. After that, he decided he would be devastated at her loss either way so he might as well embrace her loyalty and friendship. However, the case with Mostow had been different. He’d pushed her away again. He knew he wasn’t a good person to be around when he profiled and he didn’t want her to see him that way. But of course, his maladaptive coping mechanism was to be an asshole about it rather than just explain that to her. He retreated into himself and away from her support. He had done that several times over the years. So many other people would use that as an opportunity to walk away and he wondered if he was subconsciously testing her at these times. If he was, she always passed with flying colours. She would never let anyone hurt him, not even himself. And she was there as a shining light to help guide him out of the darkness again. Something he had never had in his VCS days.

“Hello?”
“Mulder, it’s me. You OK?”
“Yeah, Scully. I’m OK.”
“You sure? After everything with Mostow and Patterson…”
“And my brief but thorough descent into madness?”
“Mulder…”
“I know you were worried about me, Scully. I know you were afraid of what I was capable of.”
“I was afraid *for* you, Mulder. Never of you.”
“Well, that makes one of us.”
“Was it always like that? In the VCS? When you were profiling?”
“Not always, no. There were lots of profiles that were pretty straight forward. Standard psych evaluation of the behaviour and patterns and you could whip a comprehensive profile that did the job. But there were some where you just had to get inside the guy’s head. I didn’t like Patterson’s approach but there were times that was the only way you could do it.”
“And you were good at it.”
“Yeah. I was fucking great at it. Trust me to be the fucking poster child for delving into the minds of monsters.”
“Mulder…”
“And Patterson hated that I was so good at it, but at the same time pushed me deeper and deeper. When I was working with Reggie, it was OK. He could keep me somewhat grounded and he was a safe port in the storm. But whenever I had to deal directly with Patterson, I always lost myself for a while. I started to worry that one day I wouldn’t find myself again. That I would end up even more broken than I already was.”
“I guess that fear was fairly well founded. Given how Patterson has ended up, I mean.”
“See, Scully? The X-Files is the safest, sanest place in the FBI.”
“Well, that’s debatable. But I am glad you got out of VCS, Mulder. I don’t care how good you are at profiling like that, I don’t ever want to see you like that again.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, Scully.”
“I just didn’t like seeing you like that, Mulder. You were…”
“Unhinged?”
“Unreachable.”

Mulder listened to the silence on the tape. He hadn’t known what to say to her. He had been unreachable, deliberately so. He had distanced himself from her. Or he had tried to. She hadn’t really let him. Just like she hadn’t let him after The X-Files was shut down the first time. Just like she hadn’t let him ditch her to go to the Arctic. He couldn’t be unreachable to Scully even if he wanted to be. He hadn’t realised that yet back then, though.

“I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, Scully.”
“Goodnight, Mulder… Oh, Mulder?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you, um, tidied your apartment yet?”
“All my artwork is in the trash, Scully. My place is back to its usual, more subtle ‘insanity chic’ decor.”
“See you tomorrow, Mulder.”

Chapter Text

Mulder heard and felt his stomach rumbling again. He was so caught up in listening to these tapes and reflecting on his relationship with Scully that he kept forgetting to eat. He dialled his local Chinese take-out place, knowing from experience that they were open on Christmas Day. When the manager answered the phone he recognised Mulder’s voice and asked if he wanted his usual. Without thought, Mulder agreed. After he hung up, he realised that his usual now consisted of two egg rolls, Kung Pao chicken, and beef and broccoli, with an extra serving of vegetables. It was, of course, too much food for one person. And Mulder would never willingly order an extra serving of vegetables. It was the order he and Scully got when they were working a case at his place. Or, sometimes, when they weren’t. That had been happening more often, lately. The two of them just spending time with each other, away from work, without an actual, or even contrived, reason to do so. And he loved it. Mulder sighed, thinking Scully would be happy that he was at least getting something vaguely nutritious in his diet. He promised her in his head that he would eat the vegetables.

“Scully.”

Mulder frowned. Scully hardly ever answered her home phone like that. From what he could tell, she tried to keep home and work separate. She was ‘Scully’ at the office and on her cell, but Dana answered her phone with ‘hello’. She must have still been very much in work-mode.

“Agent Scully? This is Kim Cook from the director’s office.”
“Yes?”
“We’ve just got some bad news, AD Skinner has just been shot.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago. He’s been taken to Northeast Georgetown.”
“I’m on my way.”

Mulder’s frown deepened. Why would the director’s office call Scully about Skinner? Sure, she was an agent under his supervision, but she was one of many. Were they calling all his subordinates? He doubted it. They didn’t call him. Had Skinner asked for her? If so, why? Because she was a doctor? Because he suspected a connection between Scully and/or The X-Files and his own shooting? Or just because she was Scully? Mulder knew Skinner cared about her. More than she realised. He had sold his soul to the devil to try and cure her cancer and had never even told her. Mulder knew Skinner would be devastated if he knew the number of times Scully doubted his loyalty. But, she never turned her back on him either. She was always there for Skinner when he needed them. And not long after this she saved his life, protected him from the man who had already tried to kill him and had succeeded in killing her sister. Whatever the reason, it was lucky they had contacted Scully.

“Hello?”
“Hi! Is that Nate?”
“Who are you and how do you know my name?”

Mulder chuckled at the indignation and blatant paranoia expressed in a child’s voice. Who the hell was Scully calling?

“Nate, my name’s Dana. I’m your mom’s cousin. I met you when you were very little so you probably don’t remember. But your mom and I used to play together all the time when we were kids.”
“Did I meet you in the Before Time?”

Mulder nearly choked on his water. Who the hell was this kid? And why was he apparently living in some post-apocalyptic world with a ‘Before’ and (presumably) ‘After’ time? He heard Scully suppress her own laugh.

“The Before Time?”
“Before Mommy and I moved to Spain. She says we used to live in ‘Merica before but I don’t remember it. I only remember Spain. So I call it the Before Time.”
“Yeah, it was before you moved to Spain. But you’re back now. Are you excited to be living in San Francisco?”
“Maybe. I miss my friends and my teacher. But Mommy says I will make new friends. And I still get to go to the beach every day. And this beach is actually better because it has sand instead of pebbles. So I guess it’s OK.”
“Nate? Who are you talking to?”
“A lady from the Before Time! She says you played with her! What’s your name again?”
“Dana.”
“Her name is Dana. She’s nice. I like her.”
“Dana?! Nate, give me the phone.”
“Bye Nate!”
“Bye Dana!”
“Dana? Hi! How are you?”
“Hey Tori. I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from Mom. She mentioned that Aunt Carol told her that you had moved back to California.”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind! It’s so great to hear from you! How are you? I hear bits and pieces from Mom but not much.”
“I’m good. I’m great. There’s not much to tell, really.”
“Mom said you joined the FBI?”
“Yep. Yeah I did. Certainly not what I expected to be doing with my life but I love it. Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, it isn’t always as… satisfactory as I would like. And it can be dangerous. I don’t mind that for myself - I’m trained - but it was because of my job that Missy…”
“I was really sorry to hear about Missy, Dana. And I’m so sorry we couldn’t make it to the funeral.”
“Thanks. We got the flowers, they were beautiful. Trust you to send flowers that represent a free spirit, eternal life, and intuition - Missy would have loved it!”
“I thought so.”
“Actually, that’s kind of why I’m calling.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was in San Diego for a case and I had to visit someone on our old base. It just brought back so many memories of playing with Missy and you and all the other kids. So I just really wanted to call and hear your voice.”
“Oh Dana. I used to love coming to your house! It was so much fun. There was you and Missy and Bill and Charlie. And all the other Navy brats. It was always so busy and vibrant. Way better than our stuffy little apartment with just me and Mom. Hey, what was that game all the kids used to play in that big oval?”
“Beckon’s Wanted.”
“That’s right! You were so competitive! Even when you were tiny.”
“Well, there’s no point in playing a game if you’re not playing to win! Anyway, how would you know? You and Missy always wandered off half-way through to make daisy chains.”
“Yeah, we did, didn’t we? Actually, Missy was the one who taught me how to make daisy chains. She taught me a lot, actually.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Remember that time when she was about 14? I had just turned 13 so that would have made you, what, 12?”
“Probably.”
“And she decided to give us a lesson in how to put on make-up?”
“That’s right! And then Dad caught us and made us wash it all off! I was terrified to wear any make-up again for about four years! Not Missy, though. She was wearing it again the next day. She was fearless. Eventually Dad just gave up. He knew he would never win with her and he decided on a tactical retreat so he could focus his efforts on the rest of us.”
“She was a very special person.”
“Yeah, she was.”
“She came to see me, you know.”
“When?”
“She was in Europe. I think she said something about being on a painting pilgrimage in Italy? Anyway, she said she was in the area so she thought she would pop in. She stayed for about a week. It was fantastic.”
“Oh, that’s lovely, Tori. I’m so glad you had that time.”
“It was strange, though. Some of what she said. It was like she knew it was going to be the last time we saw each other. It was like she was saying goodbye.”
“She couldn’t have known she was going to be murdered, Tori.”
“No, I don’t think she knew that. I don’t think she *knew* anything. But she had such a strong intuition - psychic, really - that I think she sensed something. Not the details. Not even that she was going to die. She just knew she had to say goodbye. I’m so grateful for that. I know she was your sister, and nothing I could experience would even compare, but -”
“No, Tori. You were part of the family. She was like a sister to you, too. And you guys were so similar! Way more than she and I - we were always clashing. I think she often wished you were her sister.”
“No, Dana. She loved you.”
“Oh, I know that! I never doubted it. But you two had more in common.”
“I guess that’s true. She bought me my first set of Tarot cards for my 18th birthday. I still have them. One of my most treasured possessions. And she taught me how to use them. I was never as good as her, but I loved it. But, you know, Dana, you might not have had the same interests but you were very alike.”
“You think so?”
“Oh yeah. You both had the convictions of your beliefs, even if those beliefs didn’t always align. And you both were fiercely loyal and protective of those you love. And stubborn. And caring and compassionate. And did I mention stubborn?”
“We weren’t that stubborn!”
“Oh come on! The summer of ‘75?”
“That was one time!”
“One time that lasted for a month! How you two managed to not say a single word to each other for four weeks is beyond me! I mean, you had to share a bedroom! What was it about anyway?”
“I, uh, don’t remember.”
“Yes, you do.”
“She snuck out to see a boy one night. She was gone for hours and I got really worried. So I told Mom and Dad. She was furious! She didn’t believe me when I told her I did it because I was scared for her, not to rat her out. So she stopped talking to me. I got fed up trying to apologise and explain so I stopped talking to her too.”
“Hmm, yeah, not stubborn at all.”

Mulder laughed along with the cousins. It eased his heart knowing that Scully had this person in her life. Someone she could connect with and share stories with, especially stories of Melissa. He knew she had been hurting at this time in her life. She was still grieving her sister and was then told that the FBI couldn’t be bothered to continue investigating. He knew Scully felt responsible for Melissa’s death and that sense of guilt prevented her from reminiscing with her mother and brothers the way she would have liked. He was pleased she had someone to talk to about it.

“She told me something else when she stayed with me in Spain.”
“Yeah?”
“She said something about the man you work with?”
“Tori, no.”
“She said she had a dream about him and you before she even knew he existed and then she consulted the Tarot several times. She told me she was sure he was your soulmate.”
“Tori! Please don’t start.”
“What? I’m just telling you what she told me. I don’t know anything.”
“Well, I don’t believe in soulmates so it’s moot anyway.”
“Of course you don’t. But what’s this guy like?”
“Mulder is… very passionate.”
“Oooh, really?”
“Not like that! He’s passionate about his work, about what he’s devoted his life to.”
“And that passion doesn’t translate to the bedroom?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Really? Missy thinks this guy is your soulmate and you’ve never even had sex with him?”
“We work together. He’s my partner and my friend. Sex would be… complicated.”
“But also fun!”
“Victoria!”
“Oh no, the full name treatment! I’ll back off. It’s so unfair that you could do that to me and Missy and we could never do it back to you! OK, so no sex. But tell me more about him. Mulder, you said? I thought Missy said his name was Fox?”
“It is. He hates it. He asked me to call him Mulder. What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. Is he a good partner? Is he a jerk?”
“Yes.”
“To which?”
“To both. He’s a great partner. I trust him with my life and my safety. We, generally, communicate well and we’re an excellent team. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. But he can be… myopic. And when that happens, he can be a jerk. Mostly, he’s caring and considerate, loyal and gentle. But he can also be selfish and self-destructive. And it pisses me off when he’s selfish and scares me when he’s self-destructive. He’s brilliant. His mind is… dazzling. He can see and understand things no one else does. I love just watching him think and make connections. It’s like one of those cause and effect contraptions - it starts at one end and something seemingly unrelated occurs at the other end but it all happens through a series of interconnected yet disparate incidents. It’s fascinating. And he challenges me. And he likes that I challenge him. That’s rare, especially in the FBI. We have a kind of ideal equilibrium.”
“Just friends? Right.”
“We’re close. We’re important to each other. But we’re not a couple.”
“Is he hot, though?”
“Tori!”
“Come on! In a purely clinical, objective consideration of aesthetics!”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“He’s a very attractive man. Aesthetically speaking.”

Mulder released a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. Scully’s characterisation of him was… mind-blowing. That she could see all that light and strength and goodness in him, even while acknowledging the detrimental aspects of his personality. She knew him. Completely. And she still saw the positives. She still cared about him. Plus she thought he was aesthetically pleasing.

Mulder listened to Scully say good-bye to her cousin, smiling when Nate got back on the phone to farewell his newly discovered ‘Aunt Dana’. A knock at his door alerted him to the fact that his dinner had finally arrived. After he settled himself back on the couch with one egg roll, some chicken, some beef, and a larger than necessary serve of stir-fried vegetables, he continued listening.

“Hello?”
“Mulder, it’s me.”
“Hey Scully. Everything OK?”
“I was calling to ask you that exact question.”
“I’m fine, Scully.”
“Mulder…”
“Really, I’m OK.”
“I don’t see how you could be.”
“Concerned about lingering suicidal ideation, Scully? Or maybe you’re worried I’m still harbouring amicide tendencies?”
“Amicide, Mulder?”
“The killing of a friend.”
“Ah.”
“I’m sorry about that, Scully.”
“Mulder, you have nothing to apologise for.”
“I pointed a gun at you!”
“But not of your own volition.”
“So you believe Modell put the whammy on me?”
“I am not subscribing to the ‘whammy’ theory. However, I do believe that Modell was able to influence your behaviour. I know you would never willingly point a gun at me.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do, Mulder… Though, I did wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“If, well, if part of you… ‘wanted to’ isn’t the right term. But, I mean, did Modell have to tap into something that was already in you?”
“I don’t think it works like that, Scully. I don’t think Collins wanted to kill or even hurt himself. And I certainly didn’t want to hurt you. It was terrifying, Scully. I didn’t want to be holding you at gunpoint. I tried so hard not to but… I just had no control. If you hadn’t pulled that fire alarm… If I had actually…”
“But you didn’t, Mulder. You fought him long enough for me to be able to find a solution. Except… well, I don’t understand…”
“What, Scully?”
“You didn’t seem to fight him as much when he was making you put the gun to your own head. I don’t know, forget it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“There wasn’t as much at stake.”
“Mulder…”
“I found the strength I needed to fight him when I was fighting for you. You are my strength.”
“Mulder, I don’t like hearing you talk like that.”
“You don’t like me telling you that you’re strong? That I gain strength from you?”
“No, not that. I don’t like you being disdainful to yourself like that. There was just as much at stake when the barrel was pointed to you as when it was pointed at me.”
“That’s just not true, Scully.”
“But it is! Mulder, you’re important. You’re special. You deserve to be in the world. The world is a better place with you in it.”
“Scully -”
“No, Mulder. You need to hear this. I’m sick of this death wish of yours.”
“I’m not suicidal, Scully.”
“No, you’re not. But you’re not exactly anti-death either, are you? You willingly put yourself in situations where it is possible, likely even, that you could die.”
“That’s the job, Scully!”
“No, Mulder, it’s not. Not the way you do it. It’s like you go out looking for danger and death. I know you’re not suicidal but sometimes I wonder if you disregard your own death, as Modell said.”
“I don’t really think about it.”
“Well, maybe you should. There’s being brave, there’s doing your job, there’s protecting others, and then there’s whatever it is that you do. It scares me, Mulder. I don’t want to lose you. Certainly not to your own idiotic choices. I thought you died once. I don’t want to go through that again. You are of value, Mulder. To me. To your mother. To the FBI. To the world. Don’t leave us.”
“Scully, I don’t… thank-you. But I don’t do it on purpose. Honestly.”
“Maybe not consciously, but you’re the psychologist here, Mulder. You must be able to recognise a pattern in your behaviour.”
“I mean… maybe? But I don’t really think I can promise you anything. This is who I am. It’s what I do.”
“Can you promise that you’ll try to stop actively courting death? At least for a couple of weeks?”
“OK, that I can probably do.”
“Thank-you.”
“Hey Scully, the Gunmen gave me a voucher for a budget sky-diving company that’s going out of business. Wanna come watch me jump out of a plane?”
“Mulder!”

Chapter Text

“Mm ‘lo?”

Mulder grinned at Scully’s early morning telephone greeting. He knew by now that what she had said was ‘hello’ even if it did just come out as a series of mumbled noises.

“Morning Sunshine!”
“Mulder? What time is it?”
“It’s time to face the day!”
“Mulder…”
“It’s 6am, Scully. I thought you were an early riser?”
“Mulder, it’s Saturday! Why are you calling me at 6am on Saturday morning?”
“We’ve got a case. Be ready in five minutes. Pack a bag and dress for the great southern outdoors.”
“What? Mulder? Mulder! Mul -”

Mulder chuckled, hearing his own knock on her door two minutes later. He had already been out the front of her place. He thought he should give her a couple of minutes before turning up. He heard himself knock again.

“You said I had five minutes!”

Scully shouted through the door, not bothering to open it. He remembered that he had let himself in with his set of keys and was greeted by the fluff ball, yapping at his feet.

“Coffee. Now. I’m having a shower. It better be hot and strong and sweet by the time I come out.”
“You don’t usually have sugar in your coffee, Scully.”
“6am Saturday morning, Mulder. If you don’t want me to bite your head off, I suggest you give me the sugar and the caffeine as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.”

Mulder had made the coffee and toasted her a bagel, steadfastly ignoring the imitation dog that was weaving its way around his feet. He was certain it was deliberately trying to trip him up. When Scully had emerged from her bedroom, showered, dressed, packed and the picture of perfect professionalism as always, he handed her the coffee and the bagel.

“We can swing past Annapolis on the way, Scully, and drop your dog off at your mom’s.”
“No, we can’t. She’s out of town.”
“Oh. What do you usually do when she’s out of town?”
“Call a dog-sitter.”
“OK… well?”
“Mulder, it’s Saturday. They’re all booked.”
“So, what? You just leave a giant pile of food and a bucket of water?”
“Mulder.”
“Scully?”
“He’s coming with us.”
“What? No! Scully, we’re going to Georgia. We have to take a plane.”
“That’s fine. He has a travel kennel and he’s small enough to take on as carry-on luggage. You’ll just have to pay the extra fee.”
“Scully, we can’t! It’s… unprofessional. We can’t take a dog on an investigation.”
“Well, if you want me to come, Queequeg’s coming too. There’s no other option.”
“What about… what about a kennel? I’m sure there’s one near the airport.”

Mulder remembered the look she had given him. He was sure he had felt his testicals shrivel. She had spoken to him before about kennels. Apparently when she first got the furball she had done some research. She had decided that kennels were sad, lonely places for dogs, not to mention the increased risk of kennel cough and other diseases.

“I know you’re not a fan, Scully, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

She had just continued to stare at him, one eyebrow ever so slightly raised, arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed.

“Scully?”
“I go, he goes.”
“But… fine. Let’s get going then.”

He had not been impressed with their canine companion. He hadn’t wanted it to die, though. He felt bad for Scully but she seemed to get over it pretty quickly. Though it did put her in somewhat of a peevish mood for the rest of the night. She had implied that he didn’t have legitimate reasons for doing what he did and then she had told him that she couldn’t figure out his reasons a lot of the time. That had been bad enough. He had thought she, of all people, understood him, understood his drive and his focus. He thought she knew why he did what he did. Then she had told him that she thought his quest for the truth was impossible to achieve and that his obsession would leave him dead along with everyone he brought with him. And she had called him megalomaniacal. He had been insulted, of course, and he had tried to brush it off by explaining his lifelong desire for a pegleg (which happened to be true). But more than offended he had been scared. What if this was the beginning? The beginning of the end? “Everyone he brought with him” was her. That was it. Maybe she was starting to realise that working with him wasn’t worth the risks. Especially if she didn’t value or understand his motivations. These had been his thoughts that night on the rock and when he had chased and shot the alligator. The fact that Big Blue had been nothing more than a hoax and a thoroughly mundane crocodilian had kind of proved her point, which didn’t make him feel any better. She had tried to be sweet and comforting in the face of his disappointment and he had been grateful for that on some level, but he was too busy sulking about Big Blue and her earlier comments to really appreciate the gesture at the time.

On the flight home he had apologised to her for wasting her weekend and had told her to take Monday and Tuesday off work as compensation. She had refused at first but Mulder had been insistent. He had wanted her to have her well-deserved break but he also needed some time to process the case and their conversation.

“Mulder? What are you doing here? Did something come up at work? Why didn’t you call?”
“Hi Scully. Nothing came up. Can I come in?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“I, uh, wasn’t sure what the appropriate gift was in this situation and Hallmark doesn’t exactly have a card for ‘sorry your dog got eaten by an alligator that I thought was a plesiosaur’.”
“No, I can’t imagine they do.”
“It’s a gap in the market, if you ask me.”
“I just made a pot of coffee, do you want some?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“OK, go through and sit down and I’ll be right in.”

Mulder remembered that he had gone in and sat on her couch, placing the gift on the coffee table.

“Mulder?”
“Scully?”
“What’s that?”
“Well, as I was saying earlier, I wasn’t sure of the appropriate gift for this situation. And I never really understood the concept of giving flowers since they just die as well - seems cruel and morbid to me. And I know you don’t drink much, so wine didn’t seem right, either.”
“Mulder, what are you talking about?”
“I wanted to apologise for Queequeg. And for dragging you out to Georgia over the weekend on a wild goose hunt. Or rather a wild alligator hunt.”
“Mulder, you don’t have to do that -”
“But I wanted to, Scully. But like I said, I couldn’t figure out what to get you. So I kind of panicked.”
“Panicked?”
“Yeah.”
“Mulder, what have you done?”
“Here.”

Mulder listened to the rustling of paper as she unwrapped the ridiculous gift he’d gotten her. He hadn’t been lying when he said he panicked. But it seemed apt somehow. Even though it was so unScully.

“Mulder, is this a toy?”
“It’s a Pound Puppy.”
“A what?”
“It’s a stuffed dog. I thought that this one couldn’t get eaten by anything and you wouldn’t need to worry about dog-sitters and… like I said, I panicked. Somehow it seemed like a good idea at the store. Maybe I was possessed.”
“Mulder, this is the most absurd present I have ever received.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
“You realise Queequeg was a living, breathing creature, right?”
“Of course. I was just trying to… I know a toy isn’t the same… I just thought it might… forget it. It was stupid. I’m sorry. Here, give it to me.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. This is ridiculous. But it’s also very sweet. And bizarre. So it makes perfect sense coming from you.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.”
“Thank-you, Mulder. I don’t blame you for what happened, though. And I’m sorry you didn’t find your plesiosaur.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You really thought you would, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Otherwise we wouldn’t have gone. Look, Scully, I know it seemed frivolous when compared to some of our other cases and the things we’ve seen, but it was something that was contained and could have been tangible - seen, touched, proven. I know it wouldn’t have revealed the secrets of the universe or helped me discover what happened to Samantha but it was -”
“Hope.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Mulder.”
“Well, you told me that it didn’t exist.”
“Not about that. I’m sorry for what I said to you that night. I do know what your reasons are. Mostly. And I know they’re noble. Mostly. I shouldn’t have implied otherwise.”
“But the truth might well be impossible to capture.”
“Yes, but along the way you’re doing good work. Even on this case you managed to stop a creature that was attacking and killing people. Even if you never get exactly what you’re looking for, the pursuit of it means that you are helping people. And ultimately making the world a better and safer place.”
“It’s not safer for you. You might well end up dead if you stay with me.”
“Well, Bruckman told me I wasn’t going to die.”
“You didn’t believe in Bruckman’s abilities.”
“But you do.”
“You also called me a megalomaniac.”
“No, I said you had a megalomaniacal cosmology. And that I stand by. Thanks for the present, Mulder.”
“What are you going to name it? Ishmael?”
“Mulder, I appreciate the gesture and the sentiment. But I’m a grown woman. I’m not naming the stuffed toy.”
“So I won’t see it on your bed surrounded by throw cushions, then?”
“I’ll show you a throw cushion!”

Of course she hadn’t actually thrown anything at him. But they had enjoyed their coffee in companionable silence and then he left her alone, reassured that she wasn’t going anywhere and that she didn’t think he was a waste of space.

****

“Dana, honey! Thank God you’re OK! I was so worried. What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
“Fox called early this morning, hours ago. He said you were missing. That you had run off. He’s very worried about you.”
“He’s not worried about me, Mom. He never was.”
“What are you talking about - Dana you’re shaking. Come inside. I’ll make you some tea.”

Mulder listened to Margaret Scully bundle her daughter into her home, wrap her in a blanket, and make her some tea. Maggie chattered away the whole time about nothing but Scully never responded. He could picture her in his mind’s eye: sitting ramrod straight, wild eyes constantly checking her surroundings, listening for anything out of the ordinary, hand poised over her gun. Eventually, Maggie brought the tea in and sat down.

“Dana, tell me what’s going on. Why are you so upset? How could you possibly be so dismissive of Fox?”
“He’s in on it, Mom. He’s one of Them.”
“One of who?”
“It was him. The whole time. I trusted him but he was betraying me the whole time. I’m such an idiot!”
“Dana, please! Slow down.”
“No Mom. I have to stop Them. I have to stop *him*. He’s working with them to hurt people. To hurt me. Melissa.”
“Dana, what are you talking about? Melissa?”
“I saw him. With the Cancer Man. They were laughing. Probably at my naivete.”
“Who? Who is the Cancer Man?”
“He cleaned up the ashtray but I know what I saw. And the car was moved. Plus he lied to me. He said he was taking it to get analysed but Pendrell never saw him. God! I can’t believe I’ve been so gullible!”
“Dana! Who is ‘he’?”
“Mulder!”
“You’re saying Fox has betrayed you? Has hurt you? What did he do?”
“I told you! He’s been in on it since the beginning! He’s been lying to me this whole time! He’s not who he said he was. He’s one of *Them*!”
“Dana, I don’t fully understand what you’re talking about. You’re not really making sense. But I can tell you right now that Fox is not ‘in on’ anything. He cares about you. He’s worried about you.”
“He’s not, Mom. He doesn’t care about me. He never has. It has all been a lie. He tricked me from the start.”
“Dana, that’s just not true. You know he cares about you. That he’d move Heaven and Earth for you! Please, just call him and sort this out.”
“NO!”
“OK, well let me call him so I can at least tell him you’re here. And that you’re… safe.”
“NO! Mom, they bugged the motel phone. Your phone is probably bugged. You can’t answer it. You can’t talk to anyone. No one can know I’m here. Especially not Mulder.”
“Dana-”
“Mom! Just listen to me! You don’t understand -”
“You’re right. I don’t understand because you’re not making any sense! You’re not yourself, Dana.”
“I’m *fine*, Mom! I’m just finally seeing things clearly.”
“Honey, you’re not fine. If you don’t want me to call Fox, can I call your boss? It sounded like there were a lot of people looking for you.”
“I’ll bet there is! No, you can’t talk to anyone. I mean it, Mom. No one.”
“OK. Well, can I take you to the hospital? And just check that everything is OK.”
“They’ll be looking for me at hospitals. They’ll be looking for me everywhere. And I’m fine. I don’t need a hospital. I don’t need anything. Except time. I just need some time to figure out what to do next. Where I can go. Where he can’t get to me.”
“Dana, please!”
“Mom, shut-up! I need to think!”
“Dana Katherine Scully. You do not tell your mother to shut-up! I don’t care what else is going on.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“That’s right. Now, if you won’t let me take you to see a doctor then you are going to do as I say. When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Right. I’m going to make you something to eat. You’re going to eat it. Then you are going to have a rest.”
“Mom, I don’t have time - “
“Rubbish. You said you needed time to work out what to do. Well, this is what you’re doing. You’re eating, then resting. Then we can calmly discuss what on Earth you’re talking about.”

He listened as Maggie headed back to the kitchen, imploring her daughter to go with her. He listened as she pottered around the kitchen.

“Dana, would you sit down?”
“No. I can’t. I have to keep watch.”
“At least take off your coat.”
“Mom!”

Again, Mulder imagined his partner pacing around her mother’s kitchen like a caged animal, starting at every noise and shadow.

“Dana, sit down. You’re safe here.”
“I’m not safe anywhere, Mom! I have no one to trust. No one to turn to. He’s not who I thought he was. Every day of the last three years was a lie, a sham. I don’t know what to do!”
“All you have to do right now is sit down and eat.”
“Mom! I can’t!”
“You can and you will. I have soup and grilled cheese. You need to eat something, Dana. If you want, I’ll keep watch for a while.”
“You’ll tell me immediately if you see or hear anything suspicious?”
“I promise. Now eat.”

Through the speakers, Maggie’s phone rang.

“Don’t answer it, Mom.”
“Dana…”
“It’s not *safe*! They’re listening. You can’t answer the phone!”
“OK. Alright, Dana. I won’t answer the phone. It’s OK.”

Mulder considered the irony of listening to his paranoid and delusional partner sprout off conspiracy theories about surveillance on a cassette recorded by hidden listening devices. Turns out, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

The phone stopped ringing for a moment and then started again.

“Dana, just let me answer it and tell them to go away. It’s just going to keep ringing.”
“NO!”
“OK, we’ll take it off the hook, then.”
“No, because then they’ll know something’s up. Just ignore it.”
“OK. Alright. We’ll ignore it. You just sit down and eat something. Now, Dana.”

He heard Maggie Scully walk out of the kitchen towards the living room. The faint sounds of Scully eating her food were drowned out on the tape but the sound of Maggie’s quiet sobbing. Mulder’s heart broke for her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt, seeing her strong, rational daughter like that and not being able to help her - to not even know where to start.

“Mom? What was that? I heard a noise!”
“It’s nothing, Dana. Go back to your dinner.”
“No! I heard something.”
“Dana! Put that gun away! It’s dangerous! And there’s nothing here. It was just the wind in the trees. Dana. Put the gun away.”

Mulder listened intently until he heard Maggie breath an audible sigh of relief and he assumed Scully must have re-holstered her weapon.

“Dana, what are you so afraid of?”
“They’re going to kill me. *He’s* going to kill me. He knows I know now.”
“Who?”
“Mulder!”
“Fox is not going to kill you!”
“He is, Mom. He’s not who you think he is. He knows I’ve figured out his game. That he’s been lying to me from the start. That he’s one of them. He’s going to kill me. If he finds me, he’ll kill me.”
“Dana -”
“Mom, you have to believe me! He’s going to kill me. If he finds me, I’m dead.”
“OK, well he’s not going to find you. Did you finish your food?”
“What? No. I’m not really hungry right now, Mom.”
“Nonsense. You need to eat. You can’t make decisions on an empty stomach. Now, back to the kitchen.”

Mulder smiled sadly at Maggie’s mothering and the fact that Dana acquiesced despite her psychotic state - a true testament to behavioural conditioning. Even with everything that Scully thought was going on, if her mother told her to sit down and eat, she would. He was equally impressed with Margaret Scully’s handling of Scully. Whether she realised it or not, she had stopped arguing and questioning Scully but was equally not buying into her delusion. She just kept trying to redirect her and keep her calm and feeling safe. Mulder wondered if she had ever studied psychology or if it was just a natural mothering instinct. He doubted, however, that his own mother would handle such a situation with such care and understanding. There was certainly something special about those Scully women.

The phone trilled again and Mulder heard the sound of a chair hitting the floor.

“It’s OK, Dana. We’ll just ignore it. Like you said. We don’t have to answer it.”
“OK. Yeah, OK. Just don’t answer it.”
“I won’t. Sit back down, honey. Do you want some juice?”

He heard Scully right her chair and sit back down as Maggie pottered around getting her drink.

“Why don’t you go upstairs for a rest, Dana. I’m sure everything will seem much clearer after you’ve slept. You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”
“How… how do you know that?”
“Dana, I’m your mother. I can tell. I could always tell when you hadn’t slept. Remember when you were 16 and you stayed up all night studying for that chemistry exam? You promised your father and I that you would get a good night’s sleep so you turned off the lights and studied under your blankets with a torch. I didn’t know at the time but the next morning I knew immediately that you hadn’t even tried to sleep.”

Maggie was talking very quickly, Mulder assumed it was due to the adrenaline as much as it was part of Maggie trying to keep her daughter distracted and calm.

“I can’t sleep now, Mom. Besides, I’m not tired.”
“Oh honey, you are. You just don’t realise it. I bet if you laid down for just a moment you would drift off and everything will be much clearer when you wake up.”
“Mom! No! I can’t. I have to keep watch. They could be here any moment. I have to protect myself. I have to protect you. I couldn’t protect Missy. That was my fault. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry I let Mulder kill Melissa.”
“Oh Dana, honey!”

Mulder could hear Scully crying and then the sound became muffled as, he assumed, Maggie wrapped her in a tight embrace. Mulder felt his stomach roil at the idea that Scully could consider that he was directly responsible for her sister’s death. That that device had warped her mind so completely that she could believe the very worst of him.

He heard the sound of knocking on the cassette.

“He’s here. He’s going to kill me!”
“Dana -”
“You can’t answer the door, Mom.”
“Dana, if it is Fox he’ll wonder why I’m not answering. He’ll know something is wrong.”
“But…”
“Dana, think about it. Fox would break down the door. Wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe…”
“Let me answer it and I’ll get him to go away.”
“He won’t listen.”
“He’ll listen to me, Dana.”
“Don’t let him hurt me, Mom.”
“I won’t, Dana. I won’t.”

The sound of his own impatient and desperate knocking sounded again on the tape.

“Mrs Scully. Is she here?”
“Uh, no.”
“You haven’t been answering your phone.”
“Well, when I hear from her I’ll call you, OK?”
“I need to see her.”
“Fox please go away. Go away!”
“Where is she?”
“Dana put down the gun!”
“I’m here to help you, Scully.”
“I told you, Mom, he’s here to kill me.”
“I’m on your side. You know that.”
“Put it down, Dana.”
“Scully, listen to me very carefully. You don’t know it but you’re sick. With the same thing that drove those other people to murder. Whatever you think might be happening -”
“Just step back.”

Mulder heard, again, the sound of her clicking the safety off of her gun.

“Dana, you’re not yourself. He’s telling you the truth.”
“It’s not the truth, Mom. He’s lied to me from the beginning. He never trusted me.”
“Scully, you are the only one I trust.”
“You’re in on it. You’re one of *Them*. You’re one of the people who abducted me. You put that *thing* in my neck! You killed my sister!”

As if his body were reliving the moment as well, he felt the same lump form in his throat. He couldn’t argue with her. He couldn’t deny it. Because even though he hadn’t directly done those things to her - the mere thought of hurting her in such a way made him sick to the stomach - he did have some accountability. He was responsible, if only tangentially. If it weren’t for The X-Files, if it weren’t for him, those things would have never happened to her. If he’d been able to push her away like he had originally planned, she would be safe and whole and well and so would her family. Ironically, if he truly hadn’t trusted her, she wouldn’t be in this situation. He wasn’t ‘in on it’, he wasn’t ‘one of Them’, but he had felt that Scully had every right to blame him, nevertheless.

“That’s not true, Dana.”
“It is!”
“I want you to listen to me.”
“Mom, just get out of the way!”
“You trust me, don’t you? You know that I would never hurt you. That I would never let anybody hurt you. That’s why you came here, isn’t it? You’re safe here. Put the gun down, Dana.”

Mulder held his breath again, as he did then, as Maggie walked towards her daughter. Walked towards the gun that she was pointing, ready to fire. Trusting that her daughter wouldn’t hurt her. That she could still get through to her.

“Put it down.”

And she was right. Scully had crumpled into her mother’s arms. Mulder listened to the heart-wrenching sound of his partner sobbing into her mother’s shoulder, remembering how they had collapsed together on the floor and Mulder had called the ambulance which he had already put on stand-by when he went to Annapolis. The sounds of sirens soon filled his apartment as he recalled how the paramedics had managed to sedate her before she was able to jump back into defensive mode. They had bundled her out into the ambulance and Maggie had followed close behind. He had held back.

“Aren’t you coming, Fox?”
“I will Mrs Scully. But I don’t think I should be with her right now. She’s unwell and the illness is making her believe she can’t trust me. But she can. You know that, right? That I would never ever hurt her. Not on purpose.”
“I know, Fox. I know. I never believed it, not even for a moment. I knew that something was wrong. She wasn’t well. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“You kept her safe, Mrs Scully. That’s all you needed to do. She’ll get the care she needs now. She’ll be OK.”
“So, you’re coming to the hospital?”
“Yes, but not tonight. I’ll wait until her symptoms are gone. When she’s herself again. I don’t want to upset her anymore than I already have. I’ll keep in touch with her doctors. I’ll be there as soon as they say it’s OK.”
“OK. Alright. I’ll see you then.”
“Goodbye, Mrs Scully. And… thanks.”
“Oh Fox.”

He had remembered how she had hugged him briefly then. And how much he wanted to dissolve into her accepting embrace the same way Scully had moments earlier. She was warm and safe and comforting. He had swallowed his tears, though, and released her.

“Go. Keep her safe. She’ll be better soon.”
“Look after yourself, Fox.”

For the first time Mulder allowed himself to consider what might have happened if Margaret Scully hadn’t been there. If she’d been out of town. If Scully hadn’t known, on some innate elemental level, where to go. If Mrs Scully had been anyone other than who she was. It was only because of Maggie’s genuine warmth, acceptance, and outright fearlessness that things had ended up OK. He had been sure *he* was the person who could talk Scully down off that ledge. That he was the only one who could connect with her, to make her see the truth. That he was the only one she would trust. How wrong he had been. He was the one she trusted least. He was the cause of her actions; the root of her fear. He knew that she was under the influence of that device, whatever it was, and that it played on her greatest fear. He knew that it wasn’t really *her* who had mistrusted him but it still hurt. It hurt then and it still hurt now. Even the thought that Scully could envisage him betraying her like that made his stomach roil, his heart constrict, and his soul break. She was the one person in the world he would never deliberately hurt. She was the one person who he would protect at all costs. She was the one person who’s safety came before his quest, his sister. She was the only person in the world who he couldn’t betray. Not for anything. Not even for Samantha. And he had already proven that once. He just found it difficult to accept, mind-control or no, that Scully could doubt him that much, that she could suspect of causing her so much pain. Directly and deliberately.

He was surprised to hear Scully’s voice again on the tape.

“Mom, honestly, I’m fine now. I can go home.”
“Please indulge me, honey. I would just feel better if you were here. Just for one night. I… need to know you’re safe.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you, Mom. I’m sorry I came here like that.”
“I’m not.”
“What?”
“I mean, I’m sorry that happened to you and it did scare me, but don’t ever be sorry for coming to me for help or sanctuary, Dana. That’s why I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m your mother and I don’t care how old or tough you are, it is and always will be my job to protect you. And I’m so glad that you knew that. That you knew that here was your safe space.”
“Oh Mom!”

Mulder heard Scully start to cry. Somehow, listening to her cry felt like a greater infringement than anything else he had listened to. She was always so stoic and strong. He knew she hated for anyone to see her break down so every time she cried on these tapes, it felt more intimate and more invasive than he could imagine. And yet he continued to listen. Eventually her tears subsided and mother and daughter sat in companionable silence for a while.

“How do you feel about going back to work tomorrow?”
“Work is fine. Mulder on the other hand…”
“He was worried about you. He was the one who figured out what was happening. I don’t think he’s going to hold it against you.”
“It’s not that. I just… trust is important to him, Mom. And the fact that I didn’t trust him, for whatever reason, will hurt him. And I don’t know how to fix that.”
“But he knows it wasn’t you.”
“Yes, he knows that but I’m not sure that matters. Mulder is… prone to guilt. We know that this thing tapped into people’s fears and manipulated their interpretation of the world through the lens of those fears. But they had to exist in the first place. I’m afraid that Mulder believes, now, that on some level that I blame him for the things that happened to me. I know he feels a certain amount of responsibility and I don’t want to add to that.”
“Do you? Blame him?”

Mulder held his breath.

“No! Of course not! Nothing that has happened to me has been his fault. I’ve never blamed him. Not for a second. But I don’t know that he’ll believe me. Not now.”
“You said this thing tapped into pre-existing fears. Maybe part of you does blame him, even unconsciously -”
“No! That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“It’s because I *do* trust him so much.”
“Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“You know I’m not great at making connections with people. I can be guarded, closed off. I don’t ever really let people in. Even people I really care about. Even people I love. But with Mulder… I didn’t mean to, but somehow I’ve let him in. Other than family, he’s the only person I’ve ever truly trusted beyond doubt. I can’t even explain it really except to say he is the one person in the world, not counting you, that I know won’t betray me. And that’s… scary for me. To trust someone else so implicitly leaves me vulnerable. And so, while I *know* he would never deliberately hurt me, it’s still my greatest fear. Because if it were to happen, I’m not sure I would survive it.”

Mulder suddenly remembered to breathe. Not only did Scully know him well enough to predict exactly where his thoughts would go but she cared enough that she didn’t want him to hurt. And then her explanation - her confession - was so raw and honest he felt overwhelmed by her faith in him. Not just her faith and her trust but that she had never given such an honour to anyone else. He knew she could be guarded but he didn’t imagine for a moment that he was the only person she had truly let through her walls. In fact, he always felt that she kept up so many walls between her soul and him. He had never really understood how deep her trust in him went. Never. Her forgiveness of him for hiding things like the discovery of her ova made more sense now. She knew, really *knew*, he was honestly trying to do right by her. He did the wrong thing, he went about it the wrong way but she trusted his motivation. Beyond doubt. It also explained her reaction to Diana. And maybe it started to explain why she had stayed with him so long, despite all the pain and trauma, and all the times he had gotten it so wrong. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her. To have ever had her. To still have her. Her trust in him was unbreakable. And that was truly the greatest gift she could ever give him.