Author: Circe Invidiosa
Rating: PG
Spoilers: En Ami, with references to Milagro, Millennium,
Biogenesis, One Son, and the movie
Disclaimer: I make no claims on the characters. They are
property of Fox, 1013 Productions.
Archiving: yours for the asking
Notes: many thanks to Carol
Summary: post En Ami; Mulder and Scully have it out over her trip
with the Cancer Man

Mulder was sitting in his car, waiting. It was early Saturday
morning. His car was parked near a path that he knew she liked
to run. He sat in silence waiting for her. The radio would
only annoy him right now. And he didn't need any more
frustration.

He knew that this was Scully's favourite path. After the whole
business with Padgett last year, he insisted on knowing the
routes she took when she ran. Just in case, he had told her.
She insisted that Padgett could have imagined the whole thing.
But then how could he know to move to Mulder's building unless
he followed her? She acquiesced with a certain amount of
frustration. She didn't need a babysitter. But it had bothered
him that anyone, let alone a grungy little man like Padgett,
could follow her without her knowing. She was an FBI agent for
Christ's sake. She should know better.

Just like she should have known better this past week, he
thought. Her naivety exasperated him at times. Her
unwillingness to see the hidden dangers all around her had
always troubled him. She called him paranoid. But something
always happened in order for him to say, 'I told you so'. He
didn't say it this time. His anger with her actions superseded
his concern for her safety. And he had every reason to be
concerned for her safety.

Cancer Man...What was Spender's sudden fascination with her?
Spender had always treated her like an object, like she was
Mulder's possession that he could take away as he pleased. He
had proven that with her abduction. He proved that when she was
taken to Antarctica. He proved that this past week too.

Anger and frustration were seeping back into his consciousness.
He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. That wasn't
why he was here. He had to remember that. He was here because he had to try to reconnect with her. The widening gap between them scared him. Scully's excursion with Spender had shaken his
confidence in her and their friendship. It was his last refuge
and it had been disrupted.

He had to make the move to repair things before they moved beyond repairing. His anger had angered her in return. He thought she would put up with it. She put up with a lot. He thought they
would just continue along. He would make the occasional biting
comment about what happened until things gradually became
easier. Or until they had an argument about something trivial
that each could believe they had won.

But she wasn't going to put up with it this time. She hadn't
been at work the last few days. He had a message on his voice
mail at work the day after she got back: "Mulder, it's me. I
won't be in for the rest of the week. I already cleared it with
Skinner, so you don't have to make excuses for me." That was
it. No explanations.

He knew she hadn't left town again. He'd drive by her building
in the evenings and her car was in its usual spot each time.
Skinner told him he had seen her come to the office a couple
of early mornings to retrieve files. All week her cell phone was
off and he got her answering machine at home. He didn't leave her
any messages. He called repeatedly hoping she would pick up even
if only out of sheer annoyance. He couldn't be sure she was home
but he couldn't imagine where else she would be. Perhaps it was
what Scully called his infuriatingly impetuous narcissism that
prevented him from seeing she had other things in her life besides
work ...and him.

He spotted her. Her head was covered with a baseball cap, but
he could still see her red hair peeking out the back. An
unexplained nervousness suddenly seized his chest. He knew she
would come to a stop in a few minutes. He had to steel himself
for this.

He watched her run. Whether he knew the secrets of her heart or
not, Padgett had written at least one true thing: Scully had
great legs. He shook his head as if he could fling the thoughts
out of his mind. She began to decelerate. He watched as she
came to a full stop near a playground. He retrieved the bottle of
water he had purchased before he arrived and got out of his car...

----------------

Mulder wouldn't speak to her after she took him through the
empty building where she insisted CGB Spender's offices were
supposed to be. He wouldn't even look at her. He had commented
that he couldn't believe Spender would allow her to live. He knew
it would cut. She replied again that she had believed Spender.
Mulder said nothing to her after that until he dropped her off at
her building. Then he barely muttered, "See you tomorrow."

Mulder had no justification. The sheer amount of crap Scully
had put up with from him over the last seven years should have
afforded her a reprieve. But if he wanted to wallow in his
self-righteousness, so be it. She'd had enough humiliation. She
didn't need this. She didn't need a lecture of silence or worse
yet, a lecture of biting sarcasm. Skinner had no problems with
her taking the time. He even pressed her to consider a long
vacation.

She thought about visiting her mother. But her mother would
insist on knowing what was wrong, and she had no idea how to
explain any of this to her. Besides, Mulder had worried her
enough when he called looking for Scully.

The rest of the week, Spender's words played over and over in
her head: "You'd die for Mulder, but you won't allow yourself to
love him." What the hell was that supposed to mean? Where did
that bastard get off? She couldn't help wondering what kind of
observations Spender made to Mulder.

In the following days, her phone rang again and again. She
wouldn't answer out of stubbornness. She knew it was Mulder.
He hung up as soon as her recorded voice began to play. Was he
checking up on her? Why is he calling if he's so angry?

She spent the days researching as much as she could into the
trip she had taken with Spender. She tried to find information on
Marjorie Butters and Cobra. She mapped out the routes she and
Spender had taken. She poured over the files on the cured boy
Jason McPeck, the supposed correspondence between herself and
Cobra. She considered taking Skinner's offer for more time to
retrace her steps, but she knew that anything she had seen would
conveniently disappear before she got there.

But now as the end of the week approached she was filling with
dread. She knew she couldn't avoid Mulder forever...

----------------------

Scully's run slowed down to a fast walk and then stopped all
together. She took off the jacket she was wearing and tied it
around her waist. As she did so, a passing car honked at her.
Jerk, she thought with a sneer. She was about to make a gesture
when from the corner of her eye she could see someone coming
towards her. She recognized Mulder's gait right away. She knew
there was going to be a confrontation eventually. She'd been
preparing for it in the last few days, but she wasn't sure if
she was ready yet.

Mulder approached her and offered her a bottle of water, "Here,
you need this." She noted the smirk on his face. He had
witnessed the catcall and was still amused by her disgusted
reaction. She accepted the water, twisted off the cap, and took a
swig. She was still breathing hard. She gasped out, "Thanks."
She wiped her chin and handed back the bottle. She turned away
and started stretching.

"What are you doing here, Mulder?" she finally asked. She held
her foot behind her back and balanced herself against a tree.
She looked toward the playground avoiding his eyes. It was
too early for kids to be playing there so there was nothing to
distract her.

He shrugged, "I was wondering when you're coming back to work."

She said tersely, "It's Saturday." She held out her hand
motioning for the water. He passed it back.

He shrugged again, "It's about time we talked." She took a
longer drink and put the bottle down on the ground, "Right this
minute?"

"It would have been sooner but since you haven't come into work
and you won't answer your phone..." She cut him off, "So your
solution is to ambush me?" Her voice was rising.

He ignored her, "We'll go for breakfast, and we can talk."

"I have to shower," she said.

He wasn't going to give up, "I'll wait."

"What makes you think I don't have plans today?" she asked
pointedly.

He ignored her again, "Do you want a ride back, or do you want
to run?"

"You're not dressed for running." He was wearing jeans and a
dark T-shirt under his leather jacket. "I meant I'll meet you
back at your place," he replied. She stalled by picking up the
water again and finishing it. But she knew she wasn't going to
get rid of him, and she wasn't going to give in either. She
reached down into the pocket of her jacket and handed him her
keys and the empty bottle. "I'll see you back there then."

He watched as she began to run away from him before he turned
back to his car.

------------------------------

He had lost her keys. That's why he had to ask the landlord to
let him in when he had been looking for her while she was gone.
He couldn't tell her that. He didn't want her to know he had been
so careless. But she must have known since she handed him her
keys. How did she always know these things?

Mulder stepped into her apartment and left the door ajar in
anticipation of her return. He didn't know why she still lived
here. Her home held so many horrible memories. People had died
here. And how many times had someone broken in here? Tooms,
Barry, Pfaster, Melissa's killers, even Mulder himself...

He looked around for something to preoccupy himself while he
waited for her. As he looked around, he began to realize he had
never really taken enough interest in the way she lived outside of
work. He suddenly felt like it was the first time he'd ever
really been in her home. Her apartment was actually cozy compared
to his. His place screamed 'bachelor' with mismatched furniture
and sparse decorative elements.

He walked about her living room. Her walls and shelves were
littered with pictures of her family and friends. His eyes
passed over them as he tried to guess who the people were. He
realized there were no photos of him in this collection. He
had no pictures of her either. They had been partners and
friends for seven years and yet neither of them displayed any
visual evidence of their relationship.

A photo caught his eye. It was clearly from her brother's
wedding. How many years ago was that? He tried to think back
to when Scully had mentioned it to him. In the photo, Scully
and her mother stood on either side of Bill and his new bride.
Scully was obviously a bridesmaid. Had she told him she was in
the wedding party? She was dressed in a full-length gown. Her
hair was longer then and was swept up and piled in curls on her
head. Her smile was so honest and carefree; it illuminated her
face. It soon became the only thing he could see in the photo.
He struggled to remember when he had ever seen her smile like
that.

He became self-conscious. He suddenly didn't want her to find
him looking at this photo of her. He tore himself away from the
picture and sat on the couch. Her coffee table was cluttered
with maps and files. He picked up a map and saw that Scully had
traced several routes that led out to the middle of nowhere.
Circles with question marks dotted the route. He suspected she
was trying to figure out where Spender had taken her. She
wasn't going to let it go easily.

Scully walked into her apartment as he was studying her map. He
tried to inconspicuously put the map back down. She pulled off
her cap and her hair erupted from underneath it. She kicked off
her running shoes and announced, "I'll be in the shower." She
made her way down her hallway to her bedroom. Mulder yelled to
her, "Scully, do you want coffee?"

"Whatever," she yelled back as she trudged back to her bathroom
with her robe in hand. She shut the door loudly. He heard the
water start to run. "I'll take that as a 'no'," he muttered to
himself.

Mulder turned his attention to the files on her table again. He
flipped through the information she had collected in her absence
from work. He was surprised she had found so much. Smokey is
getting sloppy in his old age, he thought. But then, maybe
Spender wanted her to find this information to continue to con
her. He pushed the papers away from him.

Soon he heard the water stop. He walked over to the kitchen
and opened her fridge. He found a carton of orange juice and
poured two glasses. He heard the bathroom door open. He popped
his head out of the kitchen and watched as she padded across the
hall back to her bedroom. She was in her bathrobe with her head
wrapped in a towel. Funny how terry cloth makes her look so much
smaller, he thought. He brought the glasses out to the couch and
sat again. He drank his quickly before she returned.

Scully finally emerged. She was wearing faded jeans and a baggy
sweatshirt. Her damp hair was pulled back from her face by a
headband. "Did you make coffee?" she asked. He shook his head
and held the glass of orange juice up to her.

She sat down tucking one leg under her as she accepted the glass.
Neither of them looked at the other. She started, "What's this
about, Mulder?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms, "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," she said, raising the glass to take a sip.

"Yeah, I know. You're always fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked curtly as she put the
glass down on the table.

"I'm just saying, even if you weren't you'd say you were," he
muttered. She asked impatiently, "This is an old argument,
Mulder, and I'm getting tired of it. Did you come here to fight
with me?"

"No. Sorry. I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm just having a really
hard time trying to understand...why..." He moved closer to her
and put his hand on hers.

She pulled her hand away, "I told you why. Asking me again
isn't going to change my answer."

"You scared the hell out of me," he said quietly.

"I didn't mean to. I told you I tried to let you know what was
going on," she said as her hands clenched into fists.

He shook his head, "I still can't understand why you trusted
him."

"I didn't say I trusted him. I said I believed him," she looked
at him now.

But he didn't hear her. His resentment was taking over again,
"What's the difference? He's taken so much from both of us,
Scully. I can't understand why you'd even give him the remotest
benefit of the doubt. He's just trying to show me he can take
you away again. What was it Scully? He's finally paying
attention to you so you swallow his garbage hook, line and sinker?"

He was blurting out the words before he thought about them. He
regretted it instantly, but it was too late to take them back.
His remorse dissolved his rage. But now Scully was livid. Her
voice was low and angry, "Is that how little you think of me,
Mulder? Who do you think I am? Where do you get off with this
double standard bullshit? If you are expecting an apology,
Mulder, you can just f..."

Before she could utter any more profanities, his mouth covered
hers. He wanted to stop her from talking. He wanted to stop
her anger. Surprise caused her to push him away but he was
resolute. His hand moved to the back of her neck and held her
firmly. She stopped struggling but she didn't give in. He
released her and tensed waiting to see if she'd strike him in
response. But she just sat there.

"You have been taking too many liberties with me lately, Mulder,"
she whispered. She didn't elaborate. He knew she was talking
about similar instances since the New Year. He had become more
brazen with her whenever he could, with no explanations and with
no conclusions. Her words now made him realize that he was the
one who instigated anything between them. He didn't know how to
ask her if she wanted their relationship to progress and so he
never did. Maybe he was afraid of her answer.

He moved away from her as she said, "Confusing me won't change
the issue."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean it. I shouldn't have
said that."

"No, you shouldn't have," she paused and started again, "Mulder,
if you were in my position, if you were given the choice,
regardless of whether you believed him or not, could you risk
not knowing if he were telling the truth? Whose hands should
that kind of information fall into? Mulder, you've gone with him
and after him before. You've listened to what he's had to say
repeatedly. You've chased down the meager information he
cryptically supplies only to find nothing time and again. You
were going to go to God- knows-what at that air base with him,
with..." her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and looked
away.

With Diana, his thoughts continued where she left off. She was
a sore point with Scully that neither of them broached. She
inhaled deeply and continued, "You have asked a lot of me in the
last seven years Mulder. You've asked me to understand
countless times regardless of my suspicions, my intuitions, and my
beliefs. And I've given you the benefit of the doubt as far as
I could, over and over. Why does my trust have to be exclusively
in you and yet you can give yours whenever and to whomever you
please?"

He suspected she was still talking about Diana. He ran his
hands through his hair. Scully had warned him about her. But
the past blinded him and he had believed Diana every time. His
excuse was always that he knew her and Scully didn't. When he
chose to call Diana when he took ill last year, it had wounded
Scully deeply. He should have trusted Scully, especially with
his health. He knew she would never compromise his well being
for anything, not even her disbelief. Scully never said 'I told
you so' even when his trust in Diana had nearly killed him. But
he had never apologized either. He never thought to question his
actions and how they had affected Scully because he never
understood that his actions had any affect on Scully until it
was too late.

He couldn't answer her. He decided to start again, "I was
scared, Scully. I didn't know how to find you and I was worried
that I wouldn't. I had no leads this time except for when you
called Skinner. And when you refused to speak to me, I nearly
went out of my mind."

She was shaking her head, "You can't always save me, Mulder."

He buried his face in his hands and mumbled, "I know."

"I'm not your sister, Mulder," she said quietly.

"What?!" he said flabbergasted and turned to look at her. She
looked back but said nothing. He continued, "I don't think
that, Scully. You might have noticed that with the 'liberties'
I've been taking lately."

"I mean that rescuing me all the time won't replace your
feelings of loss with your sister."

"That's not what's going on here, Scully...Spender wanted to put a
rift between us. By getting you to go with him, he wanted to
erode my trust in you..."

"So you're saying he hasn't?" she interrupted.

"No, of course not...but you could have died...I'm trying to say
that if anything had happened to you, I would be done... I'm
trying to say that I won't let him win. I want to understand so
that he can't win..." his thoughts were spilling out of his
mouth. But if he was trying to apologize, she wasn't buying it,
"Regardless, Mulder, I don't need you to take care of me."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered. Her frown deepened,
"What do you mean?" He sighed and mumbled, "I'm afraid that you
don't need me."

Her eyebrow raised, she just stared at him dumbfounded. Finally
she asked, "Is that what this is about?"

He sat back, crossed his arms and shrugged, "Maybe."

She closed her eyes. She sat back letting her head fall
back to rest against the couch. She felt a strange sense of
deja vu. It had been two years ago that she stood in his
apartment vowing to leave the FBI because she was convinced that
he didn't need her, that she held him back. He wouldn't hear of
it: "You've kept me honest ... made me a whole person. I owe
you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing ... I don't know
if I wanna do this alone... I don't even know if I can ... "
She had never heard Mulder talk to her like that before. His
words had almost made her heart burst. She wondered from time
to time what would have happened if that bee hadn't stung her at
the most inopportune time possible. But they had never
progressed past that moment. It wasn't until this past New
Year's when he kissed her that their relationship came into
focus again. Since then, Mulder had taken any opportunity to
touch her. There were more hugs and handholding. It seemed
like his hands were always in her hair. And then there was the
occasional kiss good night. He would kiss her at the end of
their day and then leave before they were obligated to talk
about it. It all left her confused and anxious.

Now she had to say something to reassure him. She slid closer
to him and took his hand. She turned his face with her other
hand to look at her. Then she said quietly, "Mulder, how can
you think that? You know that I went with him because of you,
don't you? And when I came back, I went straight to you with
everything. Mulder, what do you think I've been doing all these
years? I've been following my crackpot albeit brilliant partner
around on his hell-bent quests. Do you think I'd be doing this
if I didn't want to? Jesus, Mulder...if it weren't for you, I
wouldn't be here. And I can't imagine where else I'd want to
be. It's that simple."

"Okay," he nodded slowly. He paused then added, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

"For not trusting you, for not believing you, for the
accusations...For everything I should be sorry about in the past
seven years up to now."

She laughed. There it is, he thought, there is that smile. She
said, "I guess that about covers it then."

He smiled back. She then said, "I recall a promise of
breakfast."

He looked at his watch, "It's too late for breakfast now. Wanna
get some lunch?"

"Sure."

She got up from the couch and faced him waiting for him to rise
as well. Mulder took her keys from his pocket and handed them
to her. She shook her head, "They're yours."

He was confused, "Where did you find them?"

"I took them a few weeks ago to make a copy for my mother. She
doesn't have the new set since I last changed the locks. I
forgot to tell you. And I meant to give them back but it kept
slipping my mind."

"I thought I had lost them."

"No, you haven't lost anything."

He put the keys back in his pocket with a smile. She didn't
move away from him when he stood. He moved closer to her and
she still didn't move away. He stooped so that his face was a
mere breath away from hers. He whispered, "Would I be taking
too much of a liberty if I..."

"Shut up, Mulder," she interrupted, as her hands reached up
and pulled him down into a kiss.

Eventually they would have to talk about this too. But for now
it was enough that she was safe and he wasn't angry. For now it
was enough to hope for more...