Begin: An Age of Prudence (2/5) March Mulder was sitting at his computer under the pretense of working, but he was staring at it again. He did that, ever since they got back from Texas. She'd told him he was a sick man. She could eat fried chicken while looking at a crispy corpse, but putting that picture on his bulletin board seemed a little grizzly. Well, it was a copy of the picture - the actual one was in a file somewhere. He had others, ones she wasn't supposed to know about. Mulder must have called in a favor from the San Antonio FBI office and gotten copies of the pictures from the kidnapper's surveillance of HER. Dr. Matthews. Official FBI business, of course. That's why they were hidden in the bottom left drawer of his desk under the phone book Scully had been hunting for while he was at lunch yesterday. They'd flown home last week in silence. The meeting with Skinner had gone as well as could be expected. Mulder couldn't really be censured for getting caught kissing a grown woman. It was a little embarrassing that a photo of it turned up pinned to a dead body, but kissing wasn't a crime. Besides, Skinner had woken up in bed next to a prostitute's body with her head twisted on backwards - there wasn't a lot he could say. Mulder's profile had gotten two children back alive. The kidnapper was dead. Local PD was pleased. Job well done. Life had gone back to normal, such as it was. It wasn't until Scully was trying to sort out their Texas expense reports that she realized it really hadn't. Gone back to normal, that is. Just doing the paperwork for both of them both by herself was easier than listening to Skinner's lectures when Mulder didn't get his done. Skinner seemed to think she was personally responsible for making Mulder behave himself - like she was his damn chaperone. Unfortunately, Mulder had figured this out about three weeks into their partnership and had automatically surrendered all receipts to her for the last seven years. Lucky her. This trip, Mulder had receipts for his flight down and back, a breakfast on Saturday (omelet) and a lunch on Sunday (catfish). She had her flight each way, two nights in a hotel, (one of which she should get a discount for since she checked in at four in the morning) the standard number of meals, and a rental Ford. She also had lots of receipts from obscenely expensive mall boutiques that she wasn't planning on turning in or telling Mulder about. Mulder must have misplaced some of his receipts again - not an uncommon occurrence. She'd have to hound him or listen to him plead poverty until payday. Not that he was lacking for money - the man was pretty well feathered. He just enjoyed whining. He had turned three shades of red when she asked him where his hotel bill was. "I slept in a tree, Scully," he'd told her, retreating. And then she knew things had changed. She'd figured there was a seedy motel somewhere in or around Podunk, Texas and that he'd been mooching meals off of the local PD. For that instant, she hated him. Hated him for betraying her. Hated the other woman for having something with him she never had. Scully mentally called HER every name she could think of. She called Mulder every name she could think of. She sat and fumed in their empty office. There used to be other women. Lots and lots of other women. Long- legged brunettes with questionable morals, mostly. Mulder must have been legendary, because the other agents still spoke of the "before Mrs. Spooky" years with awe. Over the years, the steady stream of babes had slowed to a trickle, then to an occasional drip that she wasn't supposed to know about. As far as she knew, there hadn't been anyone else except maybe Diana in several years. Yes, Mulder was a fully-functional male - she could speak either as a medical doctor or as the woman that usually spent sixteen hours a day with him - and he had every right to screw around with whomever he wanted. But why this woman? Why now? As much as she tried to stoke her anger, its first hot flames died. In seven years, she'd gotten really, REALLY good at forgiving Fox Mulder. It helped that this tramp was several states away. Mulder wasn't the only one who had covert connections. Scully went over the case file again, and as well she ran a more-than-through background check on Ms. Doctor Matthews. She tried really hard to hate what she found. Doctor Elizabeth Katherine Matthews, 29, widowed. Caucasian, blonde, blue. Five-feet three inches tall, one-hundred fifteen pounds... ...Bachelor's in child psych from Duke, Doctorate in neuropsych from Georgia State. Published in several professional journals. Groundbreaking research in grad school on neurotransmitters in developmental disabilities. Had her undergraduate thesis published, for God's sake... ...Unremarkable medical history. HIV negative - maybe she should share that with Mulder. No record of a prescription method of birth control, though... She didn't bother. He wasn't that stupid. ...No police record, no FBI file. Married at eighteen, widowed at twenty-six. Parents deceased, no sibs. And - here was a good one - worth a cool three million. Inheritance from her daddy. Scully tried to hate Mulder. She told herself he had been unprofessional; he could have compromised an investigation. In her heart, she knew that wasn't really it. Other than posting that picture beside Flukeman in his office, Mulder gave no indication anything had happened. When she'd found the other pictures hidden in his desk drawer, she tried to rekindle her anger. She really couldn't blame Mulder - the woman looked the way Scully had always wanted to look. Like a petite Marilyn Monroe. Round in all the right places and firm and tiny in all the others. Those breasts are real, damn it! She'd seen the results from the woman's last breast exam and pap smear. Don't ask how. Staring at the photos of HER dressing and bathing, unaware of the man watching her through hidden cameras, the dimmer switch in Scully's repressed romantic self slowly twisted to brilliance. That was why Mulder did it. The woman looked enough like Scully to be a sister. Similar build and coloring, obviously well-educated and intelligent. Close enough that he could close his eyes and pretend. Oh, God. That took a few minutes to sink in. The question was, of course, did she want Mulder? Scully wasn't blind - her partner radiated sex like the summer sun radiated warmth. He had to be one hell of a lay. But she'd been with enough of those to know where their value ended - and it hadn't taken many for her to learn that lesson. She'd never had a friend as precious to her as Mulder, and that took precedence over any inappropriate thoughts that tap-danced across her brain when she got too tired. If they weren't partners, she would have sampled Fox Mulder long ago. Taken one taste and then walked away smiling, never looking back. If Scully wanted him, she should have spoken up; she'd had long enough. Problem was, Scully wasn't a stupid woman. She didn't want to spend her life cleaning up after Mulder's impulsive screw-ups at home as well as at work. She wanted one glorious weekend, and then to go back to her best friend as though nothing had happened. That was why she was jealous. ********** April April is the cruelest month...mixing memory with desire. They had been back about three weeks when Scully knew Mulder had heard from HER. That woman. He was checking his e-mail and he gasped. She didn't hear him gasp very often - it was sexy, provided he wasn't bleeding. "What is it, Mulder? Is something wrong?" "Nothing. I'm fine, Scully." He didn't look over at her. "That's my line, Mulder." She didn't think he even heard her. Mulder prints out his e-mail. He saves it to his zip drive as well, but the printouts are easier to accidentally read. The woman had written, "I want you to know I am coping and hope you are doing the same. I am selling the house, dog, and gun. Other than that, I have no answers yet, no truth. Will let you know when I do." Mulder walked in while she was standing at his desk reading the printout he had left laying there. There was no way he wouldn't notice. Smart girl, Scully. "Mulder, why would she sell a dog and a gun with the house?" she asked, her face puzzled. He didn't look shocked or surprised to her. "She inherited them as a set. It's a joke, Scully." She moved away from his desk so he could sit down. He tipped his chair back and gnawed a pencil, staring off into nowhere. It was several minutes before he spoke: "Scully, how are you with this? Really? Don't you dare say 'I'm fine, Mulder,' because I won't believe you." Scully had to think. There weren't many secrets between them and she liked it that way. "You're my best friend, Mulder. It makes me happy that you're happy. Beyond that, I'm still adjusting." "I didn't do it to hurt you, Scully. I would never have even told you about it," he said. "We're not a mutually exclusive couple, Mulder. You are free to see and do whatever you want." Her voice was harsher than she had intended. "I don't feel that way sometimes. I didn't like it when you did it." His expression was unreadable. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't either," Scully said blandly. Ed was a nasty memory. "I'll never see her again. I just like knowing she's out there. The same way I like knowing you're out there - safe and happy. Not sucked into my screwy life." Mulder was still wearing his blank expression. Scully felt a surge of anger. For once on her life, she spoke before she thought: "You found a woman that looks so much like me you could close you eyes and pretend she was me. You spent a weekend playing house with HER and now you're back with me to fight windmills. It doesn't WORK LIKE THAT, MULDER!" Scully was shouting now. "You don't just take what you want from everyone and walk away! 'Lover-boy Mulder' and 'Friend Mulder' are not two separate people! I hate that you did that to HER and I hate that you did that to ME! It's all or nothing! Grow-the-hell-up, damn it. You will half-kill yourself chasing after UFOs but you can't commit yourself - all of yourself- to a woman! You coward! Either do it or don't Mulder, but don't expect me to support you while you straddle the fence!" It didn't exactly make sense, but Scully felt cleansed. Mulder's face was still unreadable, but she could see the wheels turning behind his dark eyes. Scully was suddenly very tired. "You probably feel better now that I've yelled at you. I'm going home, Mulder. Goodnight." She gathered her things and was closing the door when she heard him speak, "I'm sorry, Scully." "So am I, Mulder." She kept walking. ********** In the end, she thought she made her peace with it. It helped that Mulder was happy. Embarrassed, but happy. If the look on his face was any indication, he adored the woman. But then again, he adored people named Bambi - his positive regard wasn't a rare commodity. It was better after that. They were better after that. Mulder continued his Internet relationship with Dr. Matthews, but at least he did it openly. He read Scully all the e-mails and they sounded friendly. No more snooping. She learned more about the woman Mulder called 'Lizabeth' than she ever wanted to know. It worried her when Mulder said Elizabeth's late husband was one of the MIBs that showed up occasionally, but Mulder didn't seem concerned, so Scully let it lie. Trust Mulder to discover conspiracies, even on a one-night-stand. <'Lizabeth has a horse. Isn't that sweet? She probably bought it with her dead Daddy's money.> Scully had grown out of her own horse stage roughly twenty-five years ago. Scully was having a good time mentally making fun of what Mulder was reading to her. Suddenly Mulder almost tipped his chair over backwards laughing. "Skinner's developed bald spots. She says the vet had to give her a prescription cream for it. Wonder if we can get some as a Christmas present for the big guy?" "What about Skinner?" She'd missed something. "Skinner is also her horse. You know - B.F. Skinner, Scully?" "Yea, I know B.F. Skinner, Mulder." Her tone was sarcastic, but it was pretty funny. "Print that one out, Mulder. Take off your name and I'll accidentally leave it taped up on the mirror in the ladies' room." She was feeling devilish all of a sudden. His eyes twinkled back at her. She adored him some days. His printer was humming. "Does she say if the cream worked? I've always kind of liked Skinner. He'd be cute with hair," Scully said. She knew Mulder couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "Scully, I always thought he was pretty cute without hair." Mulder's face was blank again. she thought. ********** The first time Mulder had kissed her was in a hospital hallway on New Year's Eve. The second was in April after she helped him do his last- minute tax returns. Hers had been done since February, of course, but he'd asked her with that puppy-dog face and... They'd half-walked, half-run to the Post Office together, beating the midnight deadline by four minutes. After their mad dash, they stood outside in the cold, grinning at each other like guilty teenagers that had snuck in after curfew. It seemed natural when Mulder leaned down and kissed her. A friendly embrace - fine, she could go with that. When she didn't pull away, his kiss became more intense, more demanding, until she finally stepped back, flustered. "Mulder, stop." He looked guilty, like he had trespassed on sacred ground. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Scully." "This is a big deal, Mulder. We need to think about it." "I've thought about it, Scully." "We can't ever take it back. If we don't...what if..." "It's more important to me that you are my best friend than..." "Than your lover." Mulder finished for her. "Scully, do you not want this?" "I just think we should consider all the consequences before we do anything rash." "Scully, I want to try." Mulder knew her too well. She was excited and she was eager and she was scared to death. Mostly she was scared to death. "Why don't we take this real slow, Scully? Lots of time to turn around if either of us think we're making a mistake." "Real slow?" She took a deep breath and watched Mulder's eyes follow the rise and fall of her chest. "Goodnight, Mulder." And she turned around and walked away, leaving him leaning against the brick wall of the Post Office. ********** June Some couples slip into intimacy as smoothly as a freshly shaved leg slides into a silk stocking. Others discover passion about as gracefully as a hippopotamus sambas. Nothing in the last seven years had ever come easy for Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, so it was predestined that their slow dance from vertical to horizontal involved lots of missed cues, stepped-on toes, and bumped noses. Mulder had more patience than she would have given him credit for. He promised real slow and that was exactly what he got. Two steps forward and one step back. In some cases, two steps forward and many steps of staccato high heels running the other way. Scully set the unspoken rules and Mulder followed them, as much as he ever followed anybody's rules. Some days she was ready to close her eyes and let the ocean of Mulderness overtake her, and some days it was like she was back in high school again, fending off her boyfriend's advances, making up excuses not to "go all the way." The best part of dating - or whatever it was they had been doing for three months - was sleeping with Mulder. Well, Mulder never got as far as sleeping. No, wait, start over. The best part was Mulder laying down with her while she fell asleep in strange hotel beds. Her nightmares had died down for a while until Pfaster had tried to give her a home wash and set, and now they returned with a vengeance. Being abducted, Melissa being shot, Emily, viral bees, being shot, nose bleeds - pick one. She couldn't tell Mulder about all the nights she woke up afraid and alone, but she did find a way for him to help her. He was more or less obeying the one- kiss-goodnight-with-all-your-hands-above-my-shoulders rule when the words fell out of her mouth, "Stay with me until I go to sleep." Mulder laid beside her on the too-soft motel pillow with his arm around her waist for an hour before she had finally relaxed into sleep. When she awoke before dawn, he was gone, as she had asked. It became a pattern for them - chaste kisses, holding hands, dinners, and laying together in the dark. For Scully, that was enough. Well, not really, but the alternative was terrifying. Mulder didn't seem to comprehend that. One night, Mulder's hand found its way down over her hip and pulled her back against him, closer than usual. "Mulder." "What, Scully?" He was playing innocent. "Mulder, if you want to stay, don't do that." She meant it. "Do you want me to leave, Scully? Is that it?" He sounded angry. He had never gotten upset about her hesitance before, although he teased her about it. Mulder always stopped when she asked him to stop. "If you don't want to do this, just tell me and we can stop the games. We aren't teenagers, Scully. If you aren't interested, you need to say that and stop making excuses." The air she was trying to breath was about twice as thick as normal. "Scully, I will do whatever you want, but you have to tell me what that is. If you want to be friends, we'll be friends. If you want to be lovers, and you need more time, you get more time. Help me out, G- woman, just once - tell me what you're thinking." "You are more dear to me than anything else in this world, Mulder, and I just don't want to do anything to jeopardize that." Without another word, Mulder's hand slid back up to its accustom place on her waist and he moved his hips back from hers. He was gone when she awoke the next morning. Scully was torn. She'd acknowledged that she loved him - to herself, anyway. He undoubtedly loved her in his own dangerously combustible way; she'd known that for ages. Now Mulder wanted more, and what Mulder wanted, he generally got, especially from her. Not that sex with Mulder wasn't a very damp, tempting offer. "A mind like Aristotle and a form like mortal sin." If it ever happened, she was sure the angels would sing. And then what? Scully had sex with Mulder, Mulder had sex with Scully, the heavens rejoiced, and then... what, they went back to being best friends? Not likely. They got married and lived happily ever after? Also, not likely. Mulder might be the man her heart wanted, but he wasn't the one her head dictated. He couldn't even take care of himself, and while she enjoyed mothering him, she didn't want to do it for the rest of her life on a 24 hour basis. And Mulder wasn't the two kids, minivan, and house in the suburbs man she'd always pictured herself with. Most likely, they would scorch each other with their flames and never recover. Her brilliant, sweet, self-centered, tormented, needy Mulder - he thought he wanted Scully. He didn't realize it was a package deal. He might know Scully inside and out, but he didn't know Dana. She was afraid to let him know her, afraid he could consume her with his intensity and there would be nothing left. Once he devoured her, what would there be left for him to love? Mulder was so much more alive than she was, how could she help but lose herself to him? She guarded her seventh veil, afraid of risking what was most important to her. Him. It was several days before they were alone outside of work again. Something was bothering Mulder, but he didn't seem inclined to share, so she didn't ask. They held hands as he walked her into her building, his large hand encasing her small one - the first time he had touched her since their heated discussion in bed three nights ago. Mulder hung around, watching her and doing nothing in particular, so she changed into casual clothes in her bedroom and then found him channel-surfing on the couch. She sat down beside him and commandeered the remote control before she was subjected to yet another evening of cheesy sci- fi movies. He was resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees - the picture of misery. Whatever it was, it was bad. She asserted her newfound freedom to touch him by running her hand over the starchy smoothness of his white shirt. When she asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't look at her. He started talking like they were already in the middle of a conversation: "I don't think sometimes, Scully. I see the brass ring and I just reach out and take it and I don't think about the consequences of my actions. How what I do will affect other people. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. To make you hate me." Oh, so that was the problem. God, he was the master of masochism. Only Mulder would feel the need to play the whipping boy because a grown woman told him to take his hand off her ass. She scrubbed his hair, like she rumpled her nephew's red hair when he was devilish. "Mulder, I couldn't imagine you any other way." There, apology accepted. Now snap out of it. Mulder still looked upset. The mommy in her wanted to make it better, so she pulled his head against her shoulder and rubbed her fingers through his hair again, telling him it was all right. Like lightning, his arms went around her waist and ran over her body. His lips came up and found hers as he pivoted so he was above her on the couch, pushing her back into the corner. His hands moved over her breasts and his mouth continued to devour hers like a hungry animal. A hand pulled her leg up over his hip and she felt him pressing hard against her, blocking out rational thoughts. Another demanding hand was unbuttoning her blouse. How many hands did this man have, anyway? This wasn't sweet or loving - it was desperate and angry and frighteningly intense. It was too much, too fast, and Scully panicked. "Mulder, stop! What are you doing?" She was breathless. Mulder stopped as though she had hit his 'off' switch, his face unreadable. He stood up, got his suit coat, said "goodnight," and walked out. Bizarre. She sat on the couch buttoning up her blouse as she evaluated whatever the hell had just happened. What was she so afraid of, anyway? The man had gone to the friggin' South Pole to get her. Traded what he thought was his sister's life for hers. Respected her fears of intimacy for years and loved her anyway. And like it or not, she loved him. Prince Charming was not going to ride up and sweep her off her feet; Prince Charming sat across from her every day spitting sunflower seeds and making corny jokes. Prince Charming had no sense of direction and tended to drop his gun. No one ever promised her everlasting happiness in this life and she was a fool to deny what was right in front of her. Whatever the consequences were, they would deal with them together. Just like they always did. The next time he wanted her, the answer was "yes." He never asked. He was sitting at his desk when she got to work on Monday morning. He stood up and walked over to her. His words were rehearsed: "'Lizabeth is going to be moving to DC in two weeks. She's taking a teaching position at Georgetown. We decided yesterday." Scully was stunned. "Why is she moving here, Mulder?" "I asked her to. I'm going to make this work. I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't mean to mislead you." Mulder slumped back against the edge of his desk. "You've known her less than four months. Are you sure, Mulder?" "Yea - I'm sure. I've thought about it." Mulder's face had the same fierce look he got whenever the deck was stacked against him. Like a dog grimly holding on to its bone. "Okay. Thank you for telling me." "Do you hate me, Scully?" "No. I'll never hate you." "How can you not hate me?" He looked shocked. This must not be part of his plan, whatever that was. Fine, he could have another monkey wrench. "Because I love you." Now the tears had started. She sniffed and blinked, trying not to make a fool of herself. "How do you love me?" He was standing over her, blazing at her. Scully could feel her control slipping and she was afraid to speak. "Scully, if you love me like that, you need to tell me now, while I can still fix this. But if you have any doubts, if you aren't sure that you want to be with me... then I know what I want." She felt like she was drowning. Floundering. Frightened, she pulled inside herself, looking for a safe place in this storm. "Right now, Scully. Yes or no. I love you like I've never loved anyone in my life. Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Will you marry me?" She couldn't meet his eyes. He put his hand under her chin and jerked her head up so he could see her face. He probably hadn't meant to be so rough, but it frightened her. He frightened her. He must have found his answer and it wasn't what he wanted. Mulder took the day off. The next seven days were the loneliest of her life. There was a wall between them, one that Mulder chose to build and Scully chose to maintain. Scully didn't get another awful come-on line, kiss on the forehead, or hand on her back while he waited for Elizabeth. She didn't get the hungry wolf looks or him in her personal space. No calls late at night. No cute e-mails. No explanations. Scully had to fall asleep alone in motel beds while she listened to Mulder watch TV next door. Hungry for affection, Scully turned to Ben & Jerry's finest. After a week of binging every night, her suits were getting tight. Her luck - when she gained weight, her tits didn't get bigger, but her waist did. She'd had enough of feeling sorry for herself. This would have to stop. She confronted him the next Monday morning. "You are my best friend. I still want you to be. No matter what," she said. No sense in mincing words. Mulder nodded. He apparently felt the same way. "I'm sorry I upset you, Scully. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. It won't happen again." "I'm sorry, Mulder." "You don't need to be sorry. You don't love me like... that's probably a smart move on your part. I don't want to lose you because I made a fool of myself." "Hell, Mulder, you couldn't lose me if you tried." Scully managed a smile. So, you're okay with this?" he asked. He looked relieved. "I will be. It's all kind of sudden, Mulder." "I want you to be okay, Scully, but this is going to happen." For a man who was deliriously happy, Mulder's eye's looked trapped. The wall was still standing. ********** July He took a second day off the Friday Elizabeth was due to arrive. Two requests for vacation days in two weeks - Skinner had probably had a stroke. The movers arrived Wednesday night with HER furniture and Mulder had gone to meet them at them at Elizabeth's new townhouse. He invited, so Scully went along to be supportive and nosey. Mulder wasn't dazzled, but he seemed especially nostalgic about the couch. His cell phone rang. He sat down on the couch/shrine and answered it. "Mulder." Pause "Hi, honey - where are you?" Pause Scully had never heard him actually speak to HER before. "Get out of there as quickly as possible. I mean it, I can fix the tickets. Those people are all inbred. Drive away as fast as you can." He grinned as he teased her. Pause. "Well, everyone has to grow up somewhere. You're not related to anyone there, right?" Another smile while he listened. Scully had been concentrating on him -not wanting- to be with her instead of his - wanting- to be with Elizabeth. It put a new spin on things. "It got here just fine. Even the ugly-ass couch." Pause. "Yea, I know you do. That's why I love you." He didn't even seem to realize what he'd said. She was going to throw up. Scully felt her throat tighten. Two weeks ago he'd said those same words to her and she had run and hidden inside her walls. What had she done? Darkness closed in around her and she tuned out Mulder's voice. When she came back, they were on a different subject: "Well, why did you feed her before you put her in the car?" Pause. "You aren't going to be able to go anywhere until that dog stops throwing up." Pause. Laugh. "Yes, that would definitely be considered animal cruelty. You won't see many cars with animals strapped to the hood in downtown DC." Pause. "Okay, I'll see you when you get here." He hung up. Scully officially declared an end to any pursuit of a romantic relationship with Fox Mulder. Hearing him confess his love to another woman will do that. She was still his best friend. She should be happy for him. Scully would have to work on that. ********** On Friday, Scully sat in the basement office alone, trying not to think. Mulder's phone rang and she answered it. It was Frohike; he must be desperate to call through the FBI switchboard. He was looking for Mulder, who wasn't answering his cell phone. "Try his apartment. I think he's home getting rid of some videos and magazines that aren't his." Apparently that was what Frohike was afraid of. He said he would drive over to his apartment since the phone didn't answer there either, but if she heard from Mulder to give him the message, "We have the van." Scully hung up, laughing for the first time that day. As she was about to leave for the evening, the phone rang again. She picked it up. "Scully." "Oh - Dr. Scully, I was looking for Mulder." It was a soft-spoken woman with a liquid southern accent. She sounded flustered. "Is this Elizabeth?" Scully asked. "Yes. I'm so sorry to bother you. I'm a little lost." she thought, but her heart wasn't in it. The woman sounded pitiful. "Have you tried Mulder's apartment?" Scully asked. "He doesn't answer and neither does his cell phone. I don't think I'm in the right section of town at all." Scully asked her where she was. Elizabeth was right, she was at a pay phone in the worst possible part of town. Scully wasn't surprised; Mulder couldn't give directions or follow a map worth a damn. "Go get in your car and lock the doors. Stay in the parking lot of the gas station and I'll come get you. You can follow me back." Scully hung up and hurried. Whether she liked HER or not, Mulder did and Scully was his friend. As she got in her car, she saw his cell phone wedged in the passenger seat. Elizabeth was sitting in a gold Lincoln attracting lots of attention exactly where Scully had told her to wait. She looked terrified. Even the big dog in the passenger seat looked scared. Scully hadn't gotten the best look at HER in Texas. It was dark, her arm was in a sling, and she had just shot a man. And Mulder had been attempting to suck her face off. She recognized HER though. Scully parked the Taurus and got out, bringing Mulder's phone and unsnapping her holster just in case. Elizabeth also opened her door and stood. The German Shepherd objected to being left behind. "Dr. Scully?" she asked hopefully. "Just Scully. Elizabeth?" The other woman nodded enthusiastically. "Welcome to DC. You've already survived the worst parts. Are you supposed to be going to Mulder's or to your place?" Scully tried to keep her voice friendly, but her thoughts were not kind. "Mulder's first," Elizabeth said. She almost seemed shy about it. "Just follow me. And give this to Mulder." She handed over his phone - a changing of the guard. Scully turned and headed back to her car before it was stripped for parts. Elizabeth called out from behind her: "Scully?" She was trying the odd name out on her tongue - "Thank you. You didn't have to do this." Scully could have made a diplomatic speech about the greater good or random acts of kindness or the strength of friendships, but she didn't. She turned and smiled politely at Elizabeth, then got in her car, relabeling the woman every foul name she knew. Scully thought about Elizabeth in the car behind her on the way over. Her reaction was the same as it had been when she'd found the nude photos of HER in Mulder's drawer - she couldn't blame him. Scully saw Elizabeth as everything that she herself had wanted to be. Strawberry blonde instead of auburn. Elegant and gracious instead of efficient and guarded. Elizabeth absolutely glowed warmth and caring. The kind of vulnerability she'd had before she met Mulder. Scully felt very inferior. Elizabeth followed her to Mulder's neighborhood. Scully stopped at the beginning of the block and pointed to the right building for Elizabeth. She wouldn't ruin this for Mulder by interfering. She watched while Elizabeth parked and got out. Mulder was sitting on the front steps, his cordless phone beside him, looking worried. He stood up when he saw Elizabeth. The dog rushed back and forth between them, excited. Mulder caught Elizabeth in his arms and swung HER around and around. Scully felt the tears running down her hot cheeks. She waited until they were inside before she pulled back on to the street. Her cell phone rang before she reached the end of his block. It was Mulder. "I wanted to tell you thanks. My cell must have been in your car and I didn't know the portable went dead. I owe you." "I'll add it to the bill." She tried to sound casual. "See you Monday." "See you Monday." She hung up and headed back to the office. Later: Scully was sitting in Mulder's office, still trying not to think. The room was dark except for the single dim light on his desk. She was listening to her partner make love. As awful as her day had been, it had actually just gotten worse. Car rental agencies weren't usually very friendly toward them since Mulder tended to trash their cars. It must have been a new employee that found the cassette tape in the car from their last case and mailed it back to them. Scully had expected it was one of Mulder's many Pink Floyd or Rolling Stones tapes or maybe the Three Dog Night she'd been missing. She suspected Mulder had made that permanently disappear, but she was hopeful. When she opened the package, she saw that the cassette had no writing on it. Out of curiosity, she dropped it in the cassette player and pushed the play button. The recording started immediately. "Lucille? As in 'fine time to leave me Lucille?' There must be a story behind that." It was Mulder's voice, sounding amused. "Lucille as in B.B. King's guitar. My husband was a huge blues fan." That was Elizabeth; Scully recognized the fluid accent - it sounded the way the Mississippi river flowed. Now she had a clear mental picture of the woman to go with the voice. There was a long pause, then Elizabeth spoke again, "You could just ask if you need to know." "What if I just want to know?" Mulder sounded more intense. That was his turned-on tone. Scully had heard it once or twice herself. There was another long pause on the tape. The next voice was Mulder's starting out calm and quickly becoming frighteningly angry. "How did you know my division was called the X-Files? I never told you. Who the hell are you? Who set this up? What do they want? Tell me, goddamn it." "My husband knew about you." That was Elizabeth, frightened. "My husband wasn't a bad man, Agent Mulder. He did what he did to protect the future for everyone who can't protect themselves, just like you do. He said you are a good man." Mulder's voice was calm again: "I'm sorry. Your smoking man also took... too much from me." Elizabeth, whispering: "He said you were one of the good guys. Sometimes it's hard to tell who those are, but Scott thought you were one. So do I." There was another long empty silence on the tape. The conversations were spliced together; they didn't quite flow smoothly. They'd been edited for content, but they sounded realistic enough for Scully. It must be a tape of him at Elizabeth's house in Texas. Mulder liked his porn - did he like audio as well? Scully told herself she should stop listening immediately. She would, too - just as soon as someone put a gun to her head and pried it from her cold dead fingers. "What about Scully? Is she more than your partner?" "Scully is my best friend, but it's not a, um, physical relationship." "Do you want it to be?" "Sometimes. But I also don't want to screw up our partnership in exchange for one night." Mulder continued: "Scully is my Polaris. My pole star. The rest of the universe crashes through space while she stays still. Calm. Distant and beautiful and bright. She is always in the future for me, always living in a time that I have to catch up with. She is so far from me that I can't see her flaws, only her pure brilliance. And I can always trust her to guide me, wherever I am." Elizabeth: "Must be lonely trying to hold distant brilliance in your arms." Mulder: "It is." Elizabeth: "Do you want to make love to me?" Mulder: "Yes." Except Mulder's "Yes" repeated over and over like an echo for several seconds. There was another silence and the next portion of the tape was hard to hear, but Scully knew what it was: Buttons unbuttoning, zippers unzipping, flesh finding flesh. After a few minutes, Mulder's voice again: "Elizabeth." Then again, "Elizabeth, are you sure? Are you sure you want to do this?" "Yes." Scully waited for the sounds to progress to what she knew would be next, but they didn't. "What's wrong, Elizabeth?" No response. "Are you afraid of something?" "Everything, " Elizabeth's soft voice finally spoke. "So am I. Does that make it better?" Scully could feel herself melting into his chair at the sound of his voice. She could see him, his tortured mind battling his naked body in the dark night, embracing a woman that could have been her. Should have been her. That he had wanted to be her. The kissing, breathing sounds stopped. Elizabeth sounded like she thought he was teasing her. "What do you have to be scared of?" "You." There was silence again. Scully said a prayer that she would hear him say goodnight to Elizabeth and go to his own bed. Alone. Mulder: "Which part of you is most scared?" Elizabeth must have indicated somewhere, because there were sounds of light kisses. Mulder: "Where else?" More kisses. "Anywhere else?" These kisses were more damp - a nipple, maybe? Elizabeth's voice was soft, as always, "I was pointing towards my heart, Mulder." "I have horrible aim. Don't ever ask me to shoot anything. I'll get there, though. Just give me a minute." He was talking with his mouth full. Scully's own breath caught in her throat when she heard Elizabeth's gasps. Then the woman's heavy breathing stopped. "Did I do something wrong, Mulder?" "Aren't you going to ask me where I'm scared? I don't like the way you play this game, Elizabeth. You cheat." He was teasing her, in more ways than one. Even during sex, he talked too much. Scully should have known. Elizabeth laughed: "Go to hell, Mulder." He laughed with her: "Well, that's better! That was almost, kind of, maybe assertive. Careful, or someone will think you like this." If they hired twelve-year-old girls to answer phone sex lines, they would sound like she did next. "I like you, Mulder." "That's a good start. Come here, Doctor, and we'll find out what else you like." It wasn't the way Scully wanted Mulder to make love to her, but hearing him with Elizabeth was still beautiful. She had wondered what kind of lover he was. Generous, playful, passionate - with a total stranger who was a less-than-perfect bedmate. Her salty tears started as she listened to his breathing quicken. Scully waited for the tape and the sounds of sex to end. Suffice it to say, a good time was had by all. Mulder must have figured out what she liked. She was berating herself for listening to Mulder's dirty home videos- audios-whatever- when she heard something else on the tape. The Smoking Man's voice: "We thought you might like a souvenir. We have what we want from you and you have all you ever wanted. Congratulations, Agent Mulder. Let us do our work and you keep them both. Interfere, and lose them both." The tape ended. Scully listened to it again, trying to make sense of it. She was rewinding it for a third try when the door opened and Skinner turned the light on. He was understandably shocked to see her sitting at Mulder's desk. Scully quickly ejected the tape and slipped it into her purse. "Scully? I was dropping off a file for Mulder. What are you doing down here? Why were the lights off? Is something wrong?" She looked at Skinner, wiping the tears streaming down her face, embarrassed. "Scully, what's wrong?" His voice reminded her of her father's. She couldn't speak. Skinner squatted down in front of her, staring intently at her face. "What happened?" he tried again. Scully regained control enough to speak, "Mulder's girlfriend moved here. The one from the picture," she said, pointing to the now-framed much-hated photo on Mulder's desk. Skinner nodded and handed her his handkerchief. Scully dried her eyes and smeared mascara all over the white fabric in the process. She must be a pretty picture. "You having a pity party?" Skinner asked. He wasn't one to coddle. Scully had to smile a small smile and nod. She'd always liked this man. He'd taken more than one beating for her, exchanged his honor for her life. More than liking him, she respected him. Respected his opinions. "Do you like me?" she asked. Skinner was actually caught off guard. "Why do you ask?" A good, all- purpose dodge. "I'm conducting a survey. Which do you prefer: leggy, psychotic brunettes, Tennessee Williams-style blondes, or boring redheads? I warn you, public opinion is strongly trending towards strawberry blondes these days." "I would never describe you as boring," Skinner said, still eye to eye with her. He was a little closer to her than was professional. Not intimate, but not distant either. "Really?" Her face brightened. She needed someone to say that besides her mother. "Never. You're too good a shot." His dark eyes twinkled behind his glasses. She stood up and they walked out into the dark hallway together. "You never answered the question," Scully said. "What question?" Skinner played innocent. Scully stopped, looked up at him and crossed her arms in front of her. She couldn't believe she was flirting with Skinner. "I'm your supervisor." "What if you weren't?" She really wanted to know now. Skinner grinned: "In a heartbeat, Scully. Goodnight." He turned and walked away, not looking back. She heard his voice echo to her from the elevator: "He's a fool, Scully." She needed to hear that. Scully was okay. Not great, but she would make it. She'd made the right decision. She got in her car and drove home; the image of Mulder making love to Elizabeth stopped playing in her head for the first time all day. ********** August Scully had no complaints about Mulder as her partner. His behavior might have even been considered professional. She had no idea he could be so considerate or polite. It was awful. She missed those stupid sexist remarks, the leers when he thought she wasn't looking, the touches, the calls in the middle of the night. Mulder stayed so far inside the bounds of propriety it was laughable. The partnership didn't suffer, but everything else between them did. Scully could see the end in sight. Mulder kept his life outside of work very private. He didn't talk about Elizabeth or call her if Scully was there, which in a way, she appreciated. Of course, forbidden fruit is the most tempting. Her information was sketchy. He brought his lunch from home more often. He was less likely to drag Scully off on half-baked chases to the boonies - he seemed to like sleeping in the DC area. He didn't call Scully after work or appear at her door unless it really was important. He wasn't sitting in the office at the crack of dawn anymore. Eight o'clock became an acceptable time for him to show up at work - some mornings he was even late. Those mornings, he looked very guilty. She never actually saw Elizabeth. Although there was obviously a female spending time at Mulder's apartment, she was never there when Scully was. If she hadn't seen her arrive in DC, there was nothing overt in Mulder's behavior that would have given any clue to her presence. The few times Elizabeth called for Mulder and Scully answered, Elizabeth was much too nice. Scully would have felt better if she was a raging bitch, like Diana or Phoebe, but that didn't seem to be the case. That made it even worse. For possibly the only time in his life, Mulder agreed to socialize with other agents. A group of them invited Scully, Mulder, Skinner, and everyone else from the office or their homes they could round up to a local restaurant one night. Scully was shocked to see Elizabeth sitting with several women already waiting when they got there. For the first time in a month, she felt Mulder's hand on her back. Hand or no hand, her first impulse was to turn around and walk out. She didn't want to be in the same room with Mulder's tramp. But she wouldn't run, either. Instead, she squared her shoulders, forced a smile, held her head high, and sat down. Skinner positioned himself beside Scully, whether because he wanted to be close to her or to support her, she didn't know or care. It was good not to feel alone. Mulder sat next to his girlfriend, his face blank except for his eyes. As long as she could see his eyes, she could read his soul. His soul was very, very sorry. Those dark eyes pleaded "make nice, Scully. I'm so sorry. Please make nice." The position of his shoulders, the tilt of his head told Scully how tense he was - he hadn't planned for this to hurt her. Mulder looked like a soldier about to go off to fight a battle he knew he was going to lose. Her heart went out to him. If Elizabeth had any idea the silent conversation that was being carried on, she gave no sign. Her interaction with Mulder was easy, as though they had spent a lifetime together. No overt need to touch him for reassurance, no sign of possessiveness. Just the calm, comfortable affection of a lovely woman with nothing to prove. Or nothing to lose. If Mulder ever married, this was the type of woman he needed to be with. Attentive, gracious, reserved, elegant- not unlike his early memories of his mother, actually. This woman was his kind - not a navy brat tomboy who was always the outsider. Not a woman trying to prove something in a man's world and seldom succeeding. This was who was right for him, as much as that made her cringe. Scully learned three things about Elizabeth that evening. First, she was elegantly, delicately pretty, not ravishingly gorgeous. Scully had only actually seen her the two times, both of which she was not at her best. Tonight, Elizabeth was wearing a long, soft, empire-waist dress and her hair and makeup were perfect. Everything about Mulder's girlfriend screamed femininity. It made Scully feel dowdy sitting beside her in her new Jones New York navy blue suit. Secondly and thirdly, Elizabeth was lonely and uncomfortable in social situations. She was very quiet in the middle of the rowdy agents, but she listened intently to every word Scully said. Scully wondered if the other woman might be sizing her up as the competition, but she didn't think so. Elizabeth shyly made girl talk with her. Her suit was beautiful - was that the new collection? Elizabeth wanted her hair cut more like Scully's- could she tell her who did good hair in DC? Her compliments and questions rang true; Elizabeth just wanted to talk to another intelligent, professional woman. Scully understood. She got tired of the sound of all those brass balls clanking in the FBI. It was hard for Scully to even be polite, at first. She'd conjured up a version of Elizabeth that was a cross between Blanche from "Street Car Named Desire" and Tammy from "Tammy and the Bachelor". It was easier to hate a vague notion than a flesh-and-blood woman. Mulder's eyes didn't ask her to ever forgive him, but they begged her to be kind to Elizabeth, and so she was. After Scully got a few drinks in her and Elizabeth, who apparently didn't drink, got more comfortable, the giggling begin. She couldn't believe she was gossiping with Mulder's girlfriend. That thought made her giggle even harder, although she was laughing more at Elizabeth than with her. Scully glanced up and realized several of the agents were staring at them in wonder - Mulder had heard her be goofy a few times, but Skinner looked, frankly, stunned. Yes, Ms. J. Edger Hoover, G. I. FBI, was actually a woman - who knew? Elizabeth saw Skinner's looks at Scully and whispered into her ear, "He likes you." Scully's first thought was but she would never have said that. Instead, she wrinkled up her nose and whispered back, louder than she intended, "No way. He's too tall and I'm too short - armpit issues. Been there; not with him, though." Elizabeth turned crimson and stared at her lap. Scully was flustered. She was ashamed of herself for being so indelicate, tipsy or not. Elizabeth seemed to know exactly what she had meant, though. Scully had, in no way, meant it as a veiled hint about Mulder. At least, she didn't think she had. At about the same height Elizabeth was, every man over five-foot eight could present "armpit issues" in the missionary position. Scully wasn't sure how to explain that to Elizabeth, who was refusing to meet her eyes. She had her mouth open to continue making a fool of herself when Mulder saved her. "You ready to go, honey?" His words were slurred. Elizabeth nodded, still not looking at Scully, and they left, Mulder leaning on Elizabeth with his arm around her shoulders. From across the restaurant, Scully saw him whispering things in his girlfriend's ear that made her blush again. After an evening of watching Elizabeth glow and Mulder (and half the men at the table) watch HER with visceral protectiveness, she breathed easier when they left. The booze flowed and the fibbies were approaching the stupid level. Scully considered matching her coworkers drink for drink, and decided against it. She did stay, though. No sense in wasting a good buzz on an empty apartment and her vibrator. Or by listening to that tape of Mulder and his girlfriend again - for analytical purposes only. It was late when she finally gathered up her things to leave. He'd specifically told her he wanted to work on them over the weekend. her tipsy brain told her. His apartment was within walking distance and the night was beautiful. Skinner offered to walk with her, again, out of protectiveness or affection she didn't know. He waited downstairs while she went up. She knocked on apartment 42 and waited. She could hear Etta James inside on the stereo singing softly that love had been rough on her. It was Elizabeth that answered the door in a jogging bra and stretch pants. Without her make-up, she looked maybe eighteen. She must have been getting ready to go running. Elizabeth still had a lot to learn about DC and if she went out in that, men were going to drive into telephone poles. Scully thought. Her eyes raked over Elizabeth with envy. "Hi, Scully. Please come in - Mulder's in la la land." Elizabeth whispered, smiling. Whatever she thought of Scully's comment earlier in the evening, she was gracious now. Mulder was asleep under a blanket on the couch behind her. "Come on in. Should I wake him up?" Scully stood and stared. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together as she looked at Elizabeth's slightly swollen belly. Mulder's sudden commitment to Elizabeth and making their relationship work. Elizabeth's willingness to move across the country to be with him. Her loose dress at the bar tonight. Not drinking. The glow. The Smoking Man on the tape saying Mulder had everything he wanted and could keep - both- of them. Scully could add fertility to the list of things that made her feel inferior to Elizabeth. As far as Scully knew, the last time Mulder saw Elizabeth before she moved to DC was in Texas in March. Scully was a good Catholic girl; she quickly calculated the math: Elizabeth would be barely five months pregnant. A little less than four months pregnant when Mulder announced she was moving to DC. Scully didn't realize she was still standing in the open doorway staring at Elizabeth's abdomen. "Scully, please come in." Elizabeth almost pleaded. Scully didn't move. She felt her face getting hot. She wondered what the jail time was for beating a pregnant woman senseless. "Scully, what's wrong?" Elizabeth's voice was louder and Mulder stirred. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I don't know what to say sometimes and..." Elizabeth realized she was on the wrong track and stopped. Scully still didn't move. Her anger was palatable. Elizabeth flinched back. "Mulder - it's Scully." Elizabeth was shaking his shoulder. "What is it 'Lizabeth?" his voice was sleepy and slurred. He'd been shitfaced at the restaurant - Scully had been surprised to see him get so drunk. "Something's wrong with Scully." Mulder was awake and on his feet in his boxers, his hand reaching to his hip where his gun usually was. His eyes were still unfocused, but he was in motion. Mulder blinked and shook his head to clear it. He pulled on a pair of old jeans that Elizabeth handed him and walked toward the door barefooted. Elizabeth was holding out a shirt to him and he ignored her. Scully thought. She didn't notice it often, but his bare chest, tousled hair and sleepy eyes made her mouth water. Mulder could have been on a billboard selling those jeans, he looked so good in them. When he got closer, he smelled like Scotch, sweat, and musk-like sex. She could see the scar high on his chest where she had shot him and she wondered what it must be like to taste that spot. She would never know. "I brought your files," Scully explained. That was pretty obvious - she was holding them. She went back to staring in Elizabeth's direction. Mulder looked back to see what she was looking at. He seemed annoyed with his girlfriend. "'Lizabeth, you can't go running alone at night." His voice was thick and he spoke louder than he had to. Scully would have kicked his ass if he'd used that tone with her. Elizabeth just nodded and went in the bedroom. Once she was out of the room, he leaned against the doorframe, defeated. "I didn't know how to tell you." He looked like he was still seeing double. Scully stood silent while her numbed mind raced. Mulder was old enough and had the right background for illegitimacy to be a big deal. She'd always suspected he'd wanted children - to make amends to his sister by being a good father. And he really liked Elizabeth; she was surprised to see him treat her so gruffly. She was also shocked to see Elizabeth respond so meekly. Maybe she just didn't want to fight with a drunk Mulder. He could be a mean drunk; maybe Elizabeth had already learned that by experience in the last month. That realization made Scully's stomach churn. Skinner was standing at the end of the hall waiting for her. She'd been gone too long and he'd gotten worried. From his viewpoint, she had been standing outside of Mulder's doorway staring at nothing for the last few minutes. Mulder stepped out toward her. "I'm not going to hurt her. She's trying; and I don't really have a choice. That's all I ever asked her for. We'll talk about this later, Scully." He was too drunk to make sense. He saw Skinner and recoiled. Mulder looked at Skinner. "You take her home, sir. I can't fix this." He took the files from her, stepped back and closed the door. Skinner ended up driving her home. She was shaking. He was parked in front of her building before she realized that Skinner hadn't asked why she was upset. She hesitated before she told him, but it wasn't like it would be a secret much longer: "Elizabeth is pregnant." "You didn't see that when she left the restaurant?" "No. Did everyone else?" Scully was shocked. Was she the only one that didn't know? "That woman tends to get stared at, just like you do. Yes, probably some people noticed." He'd said just the right thing. "I could really like you if I wasn't so screwed up." Scully said, getting out of his car. ********** September Skinner gave her the vacation time she requested. For the first week, she couldn't bring herself to answer the phone or the door or get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. All the darkness Scully had run from for so long descended on her, draining her. She laid back, surrendering to it. Letting anger and sadness wrap her like a shroud. She had never been a quitter. As the second week of voluntary solitary confinement began, Scully showered. She shaved her legs and ordered pizza. She made her bed and put on something besides pajamas. She stopped staring at the sky and asking "why?" In accordance with their agreement, Scully called Skinner every day to check in. That was the deal - Skinner would tell Mulder she was taking some time off if she called in every day. He only asked enough questions to make sure she was functional and gave no news about Mulder. Scully could see her partner, pacing in their lonely office. She picked up the phone to call and slammed it down without dialing. She found her car keys and sat frozen in her car. Finally, she gave up, hid out in her apartment, and wondered what to do when she ran out of vacation time. The request for a transfer sat ready on her desk, with Skinner's verbal approval. She could be gone without ever having to see Mulder again. Did she really want that? She just ignored the knocking. Whoever it was, they'd go away. When she heard a key in the lock, she knew it was Mulder. He stood before her like a dark angel, examining the toes of his boots as though the answers were written there. "Do you want me to tell her to leave?" His voice was hoarse. Scully was speechless, her tea cup half-way to her mouth. "I will. If you'll just come back to work, I'll tell 'Lizabeth to leave. She'll go - she's only here because I forced her. Because THEY forced her, I think. She doesn't want my baby anyway and I'll tell her to get rid of it and leave. Please, Scully." He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I thought it would be enough, but it's not. Not if you're not my friend. Please come back." Oh, God. She couldn't ask him to do that. Besides being a mortal sin, he would be losing the only child he was every likely to have. A river of thoughts raged through her brain, and she said the first words she thought: "No." For once, Scully understood what her sister had said about auras. She could see the pain rolling off her partner. She inhaled a breath, trying to glean some of the strength he'd exhaled. "No, don't send her away." He met her eyes for the first time in two weeks. "Go home, Mulder. I'll be at work on Monday. I just need some time." He turned, but stopped, facing the closed front door. "The offer always stands, Scully. If it's a choice between you and anyone else on this Earth, I choose you. Always." "You can't live like that, Mulder," she yelled after him. "I can try." He closed the door behind him, leaving her sitting on the couch, still holding her cup in mid-air. . ********** She hated herself for being so insecure, but Scully was better after that. If he'd hired a hooker and a housekeeper, Scully would have felt about as threatened. She didn't like it, but nothing would ever come between them - certainly not another woman. He still kept his hands to himself and toned down the sexual remarks with Scully, but it probably wouldn't have mattered. They were each other's one in five billion. Once Scully understood what the play was about, she could perform her part a little better. She was Mulder's friend, partner, and confidante. The bond between them was strong, but it wasn't all- encompassing. Mulder wanted something she was afraid to give, so he found it with another woman. That didn't diminish the other connections between them. Over the next month, she made her peace. Because of that, she allowed herself to like Mulder's quiet Elizabeth. The young woman was smart, dryly funny, and embarrassingly nice to Scully. It was hard to hate anyone who sent you baked goods while you lusted after her boyfriend. After that awful afternoon in Scully's apartment, she didn't see or hear Mulder treat Elizabeth badly again. He was discrete about his girlfriend, but he didn't try to hide his affection for her. In fact, he seldom said a word against her in front of Scully. When they talked, it was Mulder who thought he was at fault, who was critical of his own relationship skills. As hard as he tried, he couldn't maintain domestic bliss. Some fights were minor. They were on a case in Newark. Mulder said Elizabeth had asked him to pick her up a photography book from the MOMA; she'd seen it when she was in New York. He'd just laughed at her joke, told her sure, and moved on. Mulder came home to a very disappointed girlfriend. He finally got out a map to show her, explaining that the Museum of Modern Art was in Manhattan, which was in New York where her conference had been. Their case was in Newark, which was in New Jersey. He spelled them for her. Newark. New York. Elizabeth's knowledge of and interest in vital geography ended at the Virginia border. She wanted to know what Yankee fool thought those names up. Mulder called the MOMA and had the book charged to his credit card and sent. Fight over. Scully had to pull the car over to the side of the road when he told her, she laughed so hard. Elizabeth was having difficulty adjusting to driving in DC - specifically that everyone was expected to use blinkers, obey the speed limit, and stop at red lights and stop signs whether any cars were coming or not. Mulder said she had a fit the first time she got pulled over with him in the car and he did the oops-my-badge-fell-open-why- yes-I-do-work-for-the-FBI trick and got out of the ticket. Elizabeth said that was fascist. After that, he drove whenever they rode together. Mulder told Scully he offered to fix any ticket Elizabeth got, but she never got any. Not that she didn't get stopped - she just never left with a ticket. In fact, twice, she got stopped and drove away with referrals for new clients. Again, Scully found that far more funny than Mulder did. Some fights were major. Mulder wanted to be married; Elizabeth was not comfortable with that level of commitment yet. Mulder could give a damn about his professional reputation; Elizabeth took hers seriously. Elizabeth socialized with the right people; Mulder hung out with The Lone Gunmen. Elizabeth missed the slow pace of back home; Mulder went into shock if separated from his palm-top organizer and cell phone. Elizabeth had made her peace with THEM, Mulder still wanted to expose their conspiracies, although the threats on the tape seemed to be keeping him in check for now. And one that was a dominant theme: Mulder desperately wanted this baby; Elizabeth was still getting used to the idea. At least that was Mulder's version of things. He was unfailingly positive about Elizabeth, even when it rang hollow. His only complaint about her was that she was so quiet. Mulder had liked Scully's reasoning on that. "She was probably taught not to interrupt men - her father, her husband, her boyfriend, whoever. She'd love to speak up if you'd ever shut up long enough to give her a chance." Privately, Scully thought he was doomed. From what he told her of Elizabeth, the love of her life was dead and Mulder was just a good substitute. Although she took excellent care of Mulder, Elizabeth filled the void in her heart with her work, just as Scully herself did. His quiet little girlfriend could stand toe-to-toe with the devil professionally and Scully admired that. She also understood what it was like to not want to open yourself to hurt again. She knew from experience that if Elizabeth wanted Mulder for very long, she was going to have let him know her secret fears. So far, she would not, which made Elizabeth was just a lovely shell. The hardest part for Scully was watching Mulder dote on Elizabeth. As much as he liked Elizabeth, he liked the idea of her more. He was a man in love with the idea of love, and it showed. It hurt Scully to see what she had denied herself, but she stood by her decision. Mulder might be an adoring, generous boyfriend, but he was a child playing at love. Damn, he played the game well, though. After the "New York/ Newark Incident" right after she moved to DC, Mulder started to buy Elizabeth things when they were away on cases, which was often. A way to show her he was thinking of her while he chased monsters and serial killers. The ruby ring must have been expensive. A collection of classic blues on CD. A velvet patchwork quilt. Very nice. After another episode with Elizabeth he referred to as "The Sherpa Incident," Mulder consulted Scully before he bought any more textile gifts for his girlfriend. It was because of this that Scully was standing in a Seattle boutique wearing a cashmere cardigan she would never, ever buy. The kind that was snug-fitting with three-quarter sleeves - way too much for something that would be out of style in a year. It was beautiful, though - rich chestnut with darker embroidery on the edges. The color only redheads wear well. But two hundred and fifty dollars, Mulder? She could see him mentally weighing the possibilities. Elizabeth could wear it unbuttoned now while she was pregnant and buttoned later. He circled her, staring at the sweater. "So, what is cashmere anyway?" he asked. "Goat, I think." This morning had started at dawn for them and she ached for a hot bath. "Does the goat mind?" "No, Mulder, I'm sure the goat lives for it." Elizabeth had felt quite strongly about wearing dead animals. Interesting that she didn't seem to dislike her late husband for killing innocent people, but she wouldn't eat or wear anything that caused death to animals. Everyone had their own set of priorities. "Do you like it?" He was making his final decision. "I love it." Mulder made one more lap around Scully, staring pointedly at her chest. He gave the sales girl his credit card and asked for the sweater in the next size larger. Scully bought herself the sweater in an extra- small. Screw saving for retirement. She drew the line at Victoria's Secret in Chicago on their next case. She stood outside smirking while Mulder went in and started pointing. Female clerks all but peed on themselves. He came to the doorway holding a pair of dark gold silk pajamas up for her. Scully actually already owned a pair of them. He was setting off the store alarm waving the bottoms at her. "Come on, Scully. Look - a drawstring waist. They'd be perfect. Please - I need a size." "No way, Mulder. I'm not your personal fashion doll. I think they boil the worms to get the silk, though." Mulder's face fell. He bought Elizabeth a freshwater pearl bracelet on that trip instead. Scully didn't tell him how pearls were farmed and harvested. Mulder really tried. ********** October Little by little the veneer quickly started to chip away. It wasn't working. Elizabeth and Mulder were too different and their relationship was too forced. There were too many secrets. Maybe if they'd had more time to learn about each other or the threat of THEM hadn't been lurking in the background... Mulder would never admit it, but Scully knew. He might still be infatuated with Elizabeth, but he wasn't going to will himself into loving her. He started accidentally telling Scully "Bye, honey - I love you" when he ended phone conversations, the same way he said it to Elizabeth. He didn't even seem to notice. Scully noticed, though. The first time he did it, she had thought he realized what he had said and a warm glow of rightness had settled over her, followed by pangs of guilt. Then she saw Mulder say the same thing to Elizabeth on Monday morning when she picked him up, rubbing her belly and smiling. Scully didn't take it personally after that. He probably said it to female telemarketers. He overslept one morning and Scully had to go into his hotel room to wake him when yelling and pounding didn't work. He must have been drinking the night before - their car was moved and there was another empty Scotch bottle on the night stand. There had been several in the last few weeks, but she hadn't seen him really drunk since the night at the restaurant. She sat down on the bed and put her hand on his back to wake him, trying to be as gentle as possible in case he was hung over. Mulder rolled on his side at her touch. "Morning, honey" He pulled her down on the bed beside him and moved towards her. Scully didn't know whether she wanted him to stop or not. His brain cleared and he jumped back. "God, Scully, I'm sorry. I thought I was at home." He never said anything about it again. It was hard not to take that personally. Mulder and Elizabeth picked up Scully at home for a mid-morning flight. For only October, Mulder's Explorer was frigid. Mulder was apologizing when Scully got in and he continued to apologize all the way from Georgetown to the airport. He was sorry, he made a stupid mistake, he wasn't thinking, it would never happen again, he'd make it up to her... blah, blah, blah. On the passenger side, Elizabeth stared straight ahead and said nothing. Whatever had happened, Mulder was in deep shit with his girlfriend. Elizabeth must have thought Scully was out of earshot when she spoke as he helped her get into the driver's seat at the drop-off area. "It wasn't just this morning in bed - you do it all the time and don't even realize it." Scully asked him as they were boarding the plane, "What in the world did you do, Mulder? That woman is furious." She'd thought Elizabeth almost didn't have a temper. Mulder's ears turned pink at her question. "I got my names mixed up." Scully bet the name he said wasn't "Phoebe." Now that was personal. ********** "Do you want to have dinner, Scully?" Mulder had been roaming around the office, looking busy but accomplishing nothing. Elizabeth was pregnant enough now that driving was awkward, so Mulder was killing time until he went to pick her up after her class was over. Scully had also seen him parking Elizabeth's LS this morning in the garage. It must be easier for her to get in and out of than his SUV. "I don't know Mulder..." Scully didn't want to make waves. "We used to have dinner all the time. I don't pick 'Lizabeth up until seven - come on, I won't bite." He sounded like a little boy pleading to stay up past his bedtime. At the little bistro, Mulder also ordered a dinner salad and bread as a go-order to be ready when they left. Scully questioned why he didn't get something more substantial for Elizabeth. "Would she like some fettuccini, or maybe a piece of pie? They have pecan; she needs the calories, you know." "She won't eat it. She thinks she's too fat now." Mulder was resigned. It sounded like he'd already fought and lost this battle. As a jealous woman, Scully thought Elizabeth looked perfect. At almost eight months pregnant, she was all breasts and belly. She'd been wearing those cute maternity blue jean overalls that cost too much. Her hair was longer, like Scully's had been when she met Mulder. Her skin glowed, and damn it, her ass was still great. As a doctor, though, Scully would have said Elizabeth was a little too thin. She watched Mulder order a second drink, straight up. Scully could see him following in his father's footsteps so easily. She could only hope things got better once the baby came. "So, what do you think of her?" Mulder asked, his tongue loosened a bit. "She's wonderful, Mulder." Scully's three sips of wine were interfering with her careful self-control. Or maybe that was her heart butting in. She'd made her decision and she would live with it. Forever. "Yea, I know that. I didn't ask what she's like, I asked what you thought of her." she thought. "I like her as much as I would like any woman who is prettier than me, younger, has bigger breasts, a better ass, more money, a better professional reputation, is pregnant, and sleeping with you." Mulder grinned. "She's not prettier than you, Scully." He was well on the road to sloshed. She leaned back from the table to put some distance between them. Mulder took her hint, but he continued to speak. "You're right, she's wonderful. She's smart and sexy. And quiet. Damn quiet. It's eery sometimes. And nice - she sets new standards in nice. Did I tell you she got kicked yesterday? One of her kids - a teenage boy hearing voices." Scully had only heard Mulder's side yelled into his cell phone. Elizabeth had sworn she wasn't going to see clients in DC, just teach. That resolution lasted about a week before she started doing "favors" for people. After several months, Elizabeth had a substantial number of kids, families, and schools she was working with. All of them had - really- bad problems. Apparently Mulder's girlfriend was regarded as a guru. At first, Mulder seemed to like it. He often dropped in on her classes and sat in the back while she lectured. He said that was the most he ever heard her talk. It was cute, in a sickening, cloying sort of way. Then it had started to get annoying. Elizabeth's home phone was highly unlisted, but Mulder's wasn't. Once they'd been seen publically together, there had been messages on his home answering machine with people looking for "Dr. Elizabeth." They got his cell phone number that he was so fond of giving out from somewhere and called at all hours. Mulder felt like his privacy was being invaded. Scully had heard him yell into his cell phone one night in the autopsy bay while they were on a case: "No she cannot come to the phone! It's midnight! She's asleep!" Pause. "Well, then call 911. I am not calling and getting her up." Pause. "Fine." Mulder pushed the End button on his phone harder than necessary. Then he pushed #1 on his speed dial. Scully noticed because it meant her own number had been demoted to at least #2. "Sorry, honey. The Millers want you to call them. Their kid is on the roof again." Pause. "Okay. I miss you too. I'll be home in a few days." She had to admire Mulder - he was tolerant. Then yesterday, he was on the phone yelling again. This time, he was seething. "Oh yes, you will stop. What if he would have kicked you in the stomach instead of the face? What then? Who do you care more about 'Lizabeth? Your clients or your baby and me." Scully thought, trying not to hear, period. Whatever the argument was about, it had ended quickly. Mulder sat and pouted for an hour at his desk. Scully acted like nothing had happened. Scully's thoughts drifted back to present time and the man across the table from her, now on his third double drink. He wasn't going to be able to drive and they'd taken Elizabeth's car. Christ, she was going to have to clean up his screw-ups again. Some nights she didn't envy Elizabeth. Most nights she did. "You can't speed date, Mulder. It takes time." "She's you, from the Deep South, with no Duane Barry, and a big belly. I can close my eyes and see it." She took his old-fashioned glass away from him. "She's good for you. She's been through a lot, so have you. Give her some time and space. And stop drinking yourself into oblivion." Mulder's voice was slurred and his eyes were already a little unfocused when he answered. "I just need to be a little numb, Scully. It's all wonderful - 'Lizabeth, the baby, you being only my best friend for forever and ever. I just need a little distance from it so I can enjoy it." Scully knew exactly what he meant. He is expression was blank when he spoke: "I got almost exactly what I've always wanted, Scully, and I'm gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life." ********** Scully grudgingly drove Mulder over to the university to pick up Elizabeth. She hoped she didn't do too much damage before she got back into the swing of a stick-shift. Mulder was slumped in the passenger seat, wrinkling his expensive suit, noticing nothing. "Scully?" "What, Mulder?" "I'm sorry, Scully." "It's okay, Mulder. I'm not mad. You just had a little too much to drink. We'll go get Elizabeth and everything will be fine." "That's not what I meant." Scully didn't say anything. She was NOT going to have this conversation with Mulder. Whatever he was sorry for, it wasn't within the realm of friendship or partnership. She stared at the road. "I'm sorry I let anything come between us. If I had it to do over again, I would make different choices. I would choose you, whether you want me or not." "Mulder? Mulder, listen to me! You chose me every time you saved my life over the last eight years. You chose me every time you trusted me in your search for the truth. You chose me every time you held me when I cried and every time I held you." Mulder was looking at her with those tortured eyes. "Nothing will ever come between us, Mulder. You are a part of me and I am a part of you now. Nothing will ever change that." His face softened. Maybe he understood what she felt. His hand reached over and covered hers on top of the gearshift. No, he didn't understand at all. He never had. "We would have devoured each other, Mulder, and there wouldn't have been anything left. It's better this way. You don't need to be sorry about loving Elizabeth." His hand left hers and returned to his lap, and he turned to look out the window. The boxy ambulance was sitting in front of the building, lights flashing, when they got there. Mulder dogged her heels into the building out of habit. Scully found a fairly intelligent-looking young man and asked what happened. "Some pregnant professor collapsed. Guess they won't have homework over the weekend." Mulder was already sprinting past her. When she reached the lecture hall, he was having a heated discussion with a paramedic who was standing in his way. "I'm sorry, sir, but if you are not her husband, I can't release any information," the medic was saying, eyes wide with fear. Scully remembered. She flashed her FBI badge and asked: "Can I examine her? I'm a doctor." The medic agreed and Scully bent over the body on the stretcher. Elizabeth appeared fine, just groggy. There was a nasty bruise on her cheek from the kick Mulder had told her about. Probably passed out from exhaustion or dehydration. She was coming to, her lips forming a man's name. It wasn't Mulder's. Scully patted her hand, telling her to be quiet and rest. Mulder was hurting enough for one day. Mulder was pacing like a panther behind a line of campus security officers. "She'll be fine, Mulder. Let them take her to the hospital and check her out," Scully called to him. After she left Mulder at the hospital, a great deal more sober, Scully took a cab back to the restaurant and then drove her own car home. She was still asleep when Mulder pounded on her door Friday morning at dawn. Scully answered the door wearing only her short t-shirt and panties. Her conscious mind was embarrassed when she realized she was half-naked, but her subconscious wasn't bothered enough to find a robe. That probably made her a bad person. Mulder tried hard not to look. He was holding medical charts. "How is she?" Scully asked. "Dehydrated. Exhausted. Needs more calories, protein. Doctor wants her to rest," he answered. "Does the hospital know you have those?" she said pointing to the charts in his left hand. "Well, they don't know that -I- have them. They are aware that someone has them." Mulder was too tired to smile at his own joke. "You want me to look at something?" Scully guessed. He wasn't the only one not completely awake. "Just make sure nothing is wrong. Nothing they missed." Scully nodded. Mulder handed the charts over. "It's a boy, Scully. We're going to have a boy." Mulder turned and walked away. Scully closed the door, wondering exactly who he included in his "we." ********** November After several days of leave to take care of Elizabeth, Mulder appeared back at work the next Wednesday wearing a wedding band. He saw Scully looking at it and shrugged. "I wanted to have a say," he said casually. He didn't meet her eyes. His coldness made her flinch. She wondered how he'd gotten Elizabeth to go through with it. Regardless, it was final - Mulder was married. Like he said, they were only best friends for forever and ever. Scully nodded. She didn't bother with congratulations; he didn't want them. "I've been through Elizabeth's charts pretty thoroughly in the last few days. There's nothing that leads me to suspect anything out of the ordinary. She looks like a healthy, pregnant young woman. You need to get some more peanut butter or milk fats into her, and get her to slow down, but she's fine. Medically, I would suggest World's Best Vanilla and Julia Roberts movies, but it's a personal choice." Her smile was not returned. "There are a few things you might want to see though." "Has someone gotten to her?" Trust Mulder to be paranoid. "No, nothing like that. But since you stole the charts, you might as well know what's in them." Mulder pulled a chair beside her, interested. "This is her paperwork from her OB/GYN in San Antonio the month before you met her. The forms you fill out in the waiting room. I've seen this before. Don't ask why, it sounds stupid now." Mulder looked highly interested. He must not know much about Elizabeth's past. He looked like a little boy who had just found the cookie jar unguarded. "It's clean - no problems or STDs. No birth control either, but you know that now. I thought this might interest you..." Scully pointed to a line on the form. Filled out in Elizabeth's neat handwriting, after the question 'number of previous sexual partners' was the number one. "...she's never been with anyone else besides you and her husband, Mulder." He looked perplexed, but not surprised. Scully continued, "There's more. This is a discharge summary on her from a psychiatric hospital after her husband died. Whoever wrote it was very kind, but she was a mess. They tried to give her a bunch of meds that she wouldn't take, so they talked her into staying for almost a month. She was released into the care of one of her professors - she about to finish the doctoral program at the time and they probably didn't commit her out of professional courtesy. She certainly met the criteria of being a danger to herself." "Scully, it wasn't that long ago that I was running around a mental hospital with my ass hanging out, screaming at the walls. I don't understand what you're getting at." "She adored him, Mulder. It's too soon. In the past few years, she watched her husband die of brain cancer, becoming abusive in the process. He beat her so badly she miscarried - I read her ER records. She had to live with knowing what he did and why he died. Then her father died mysteriously and she moved away to forget. Then her dead husband's best friend started kidnapping and killing her clients. So you save the day, although she shoots him, and now she's pregnant. She moves again, changes jobs, and now she's married again. It's too much, too fast," she finished. Mulder was absorbing. "She's a normal person, Mulder. She doesn't live like we do. She needs time to adjust - don't give up on the two of you yet." Scully didn't know why she was giving this lecture to a man wearing a shiny new wedding band. She waited for him to tell her to mind her own business. He did not. Mulder's humor might be failing him today, but his brilliant mind and soft heart were not. "I'm going to gather up some files and paperwork from Personnel and head back home. 'Lizabeth is supposed to be on bed rest, so she's going to stay at my apartment for right now. I've already talked to Skinner. Would you be okay with working from my place?" "That would be fine, Mulder." Scully answered. ********** Scully's phone rang early in the morning two weeks later. It was Mulder, telling her not to come over - Elizabeth was having the baby a little early. He sounded excited and promised to call as soon as he had news. Scully took the day off. She was a doctor; she knew when she wasn't well enough to work. She met her mother for lunch AND had ice cream for dessert. It was a long empty night and she went back to work the next day. It beat sitting around her apartment staring at her flaws in the mirror. Her cell phone didn't ring until the next afternoon. It was Mulder. Crying. "You have to come, Scully. Please. Right now." His voice trailed off and she couldn't get anything else out of him. Someone else picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Hello - this is Dana Scully. I was speaking with Fox Mulder." "This is Nurse Taylor in the Neuro ICU. Mr. Mulder wanted us to call you. There's been a development with Dr. Mulder." "Can you tell me what's wrong?" "I'm sorry, Ms. Scully, I can't give out that information..." Scully was already picking up her keys. Mulder was sitting in the hospital hallway when she got there. He was on the floor, his head on his knees. The nurses were giving him plenty of space. He must have scared them. He'd gotten himself evicted from her own hospital room a few times. Scully crouched down beside him. "What's wrong, Mulder?" she said, using her softest voice. He looked up at her with blind trust. "You have to help her, Scully." Scully went into the room. Elizabeth was on the bed, tubes running in and out of everywhere. Dr. Scully made a quick assessment as she scanned the chart. Total vent dependent. No response to stimuli. She was only alive because of the machines - brain dead. Mulder had silently come into the room. "The doctor said there isn't any hope. They want to turn off the machines, but I told them to wait for you. Scully, you can do something, right?" Her heart was breaking. This must be the face he wore in the hospital after she was returned after her abduction. Scully shook her head from side to side. "There isn't anything I can do, Mulder." "No. I refuse to accept that. Someone did this to her. Women don't die from having babies. There has to be another answer." Mulder's voice was loud, angry. Scully watched Elizabeth's chest rise and fall with the ventilator. "It does happen, Mulder. She had a massive stoke and her brain isn't functioning anymore. The machines are just keeping her body alive, but everything that made her Elizabeth is already gone." That was Dr. Scully talking. She vanished when Mulder's best friend Scully spoke: "Where is the baby, Mulder?" Her prayer was clumsy, but it must have been granted a direct connection to the top. "He's in the, the neo, the nick - the baby place. The nurse took him there. They told me he was okay. I was holding him when she..." Mulder trailed off, pointing at his wife's body in the hospital bed. "She won't come back, Mulder. I'm so sorry." Scully felt the tears pooling in her eyes. She would have reached out to him if Elizabeth hadn't been in the room. Odd how the mind and the heart can conflict - Scully wasn't comfortable touching a married man in front of his brain dead wife. Mulder looked at his 'Lizabeth for a long time. Then he went to get the nurse. His Scully tried to leave when they came back, but Mulder wanted her to stay. Mulder sat on the bed beside his wife and held her hand. With his other hand he smoothed back her tangled gold hair. He leaned down and kissed her forehead like she was made of glass. Then he nodded to the doctor and the nurse. They turned off the ventilator. The room was silent. It was peaceful. They'd turned off the machines that beeped and alarmed - they were useless anyway. Elizabeth's chest stopped rising as soon as the vent stopped. Mulder bent over and rested his head on his wife's breasts, like he was listening as her heart stopped beating. After a few minutes, he leaned back and spoke quietly, "I want you to be the one that says it, Scully." Scully knew what he wanted. She looked at the clock, "Time of death: 3:16 p.m." ********** End: An Age of Prudence (2/5)