From: eponine119 Date: Thu, 11 Jan 1996 18:55:34 -0800 Subject: NEW: The Same Old Fight Category: Character-based, thoughts and stuff, though it almost has a plot. What you get when a "Buck Rogers" setting (no this is not futuristic), a thought about "Night of the Comet", and Mulder and Scully collide in my head. Disclaimer: These characters were created by and belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. I do not intend any infringement by using them in this way. Thanks: First of all, to Mystic, who's listened to me complain about this story enough, and gave me ideas when I had writers block that kinda sorta got in here. Then, thanks to everyone who answered my "two questions". I now feel qualified to write Scully's medical history :) though I don't know how important it ended up being to the story. So thanks, A Jedi, Joni, Radom, Jennifer, Kipler, Jennifer, Audrey, Paula, Melissa, Molly, Angie and Kim. I think that's everyone, but if I missed you, I'm sorry. Deep inside the cavernous mountain structure, their footsteps echoed in the deserted hallway, then stopped. Scully was irritated because she didn't have a flashlight and couldn't see a thing. "Mulder, over here," she called. Immediately, he directed the beam into her eyes. She glared, squinted, and turned away, seeing purple spots dance before her eyes. They'd argued the entire drive up into the mountains. Obviously Mulder was still angry with her. Scully's shoulders tensed as she thought of the name calling they'd endulged in. He'd told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't want her there because she was stubborn and closed-minded. She'd countered with irresponsible, self-centered and gullible. He'd shouted that she was domineering and cold. Scully closed her eyes because thinking about it gave her a headache. From there, it had gotten personal. "Mulder, who told you about this place?" Scully asked, looking around. It was an ordinary hallway in disrepair, covered in grime. Mulder located a bank of switches set into the wall and slowly turned them on, one by one. The lights overhead buzzed as they began to glow with faint orange light. A few of them snapped and burned out. The ventilation system whirred to life. He turned off his flashlight. Scully still watched him, waiting for an answer to her question. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around, blatantly ignoring her. "It was Mr. X, wasn't it?" she asked at last. Let her be angry, he thought and answered, "Yes." "I don't trust him, Mulder." Scully said. He refused to answer. "Where does he get his information?" she continued. "He could be working for Cancerman for all we know." "No." said Mulder vehemently, his eyes burning with anger. "I told you to stay home." Scully gave him a dark look, but stood her ground. -We can't agree on everything, he had said in the car. -We never have, she'd reminded him, it's why our partnership works. -Not anymore. "What do you expect to find in here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "The answers are here." He put his hand on the wall. "I know it." She couldn't argue with him when he had that passionate, intense dedicated look on his face. -The only things you care about are things that don't exist, she'd accused. -At least I care about something. She perused the structure as she followed Mulder up the long corridor. The ceiling was high and the walls were thick cement blocks. Beyond the walls lay the stone of the Rocky Mountains. They stood inside one of a handful of secret shelters built during the Cold War by a government terrified of nuclear attack. She thought about how few people must know of its existance and wondered again where Mr. X got his information - and why he shared it with Mulder. They reached the end of the hall. Scully came to stand next to her partner, barely up to his shoulder. She refused to wear heels to go running around a secret mountain camp. In the car, even her shoes were something for him to ridicule her for. She sighed. What would it take to repair the damage done in this latest fight? Mulder's heart was pounding with anticipation as he faced the door. This is it, he thought, excited. Then he heard Scully's sigh and anger tightened his stomach. This is boring her, he thought, serves her right for checking up on me. The door opened easily and he stepped inside, groping for a lightswitch. Flourescent lights began to glow overhead. "Nice." said Scully. "Decorated in early X File." Mulder rolled his eyes, but she was right. It did look like their office. Filing cabinets lined the walls. A desk was braced into the corner and above it were tacked various news items and photos. Scully crossed the room to examine them. And to get away from me, Mulder thought. He ambled about the room, savoring the smell of the musty air, taking it all in. Bookshelves went around the room twice near the ceiling, piled high with stacks of books and papers. An oldfashioned fan was in the exact center of the ceiling. He passed his hand over the grey metal casing of a Geiger counter on one of the shelves and switched on the radio next to it. At the sound of the announcer's voice, Scully jumped. "Still works." he said, smirking, though his anger was fading into an uneasy feeling of guilt. Their fight had begun over the radio station. -Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy. -I don't know why I let you drive. -You didn't have any choice. -Mulder, pull over and let me drive. -No. -Pull over now, before you get us all killed. -You shouldn't have come with me. I don't want you here. I don't need your help and I don't need a keeper. Scully's voice pulled him out of the recent past. "Aren't you going to look at the files?" she asked. His eyes slid over to her and she looked away quickly, almost bumping her head on a shelf as she leaned in to get a closer look at one of the brittle articles pinned to the wall. He wanted to apologize for their fight, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be enough. Mulder's stomach fluttered as he stood in front of the file cabinet. He was a little scared of what he might find. He took a deep breath, feeling Scully's eyes burning expectantly on his back. He placed his hand on the metal handle of the first file drawer. From deep inside the mountain came a low, ominous rumbling. Mulder's hand withdrew from the drawer as the floor beneath his feet became unstable, pitching and rolling. He fought to maintain his balance as the rumbling and shaking increased rapidly in frequency. Scully put both hands against the wall, but it was moving too, and lent her no support. Books began to rain down from the shelves above her head. Under the desk! she remembered earthquake safety from that one year of undergraduate study in Berkeley. But there wasn't time. She met Mulder's eyes, wordless and afraid, from across the room, a silent, complex communication between them. His mouth opened in horror as he saw the ceiling fan wobble. "Scully!" he yelled, the sounds swallowed by a terrific cracking as the fan tumbled down, followed by a good portion of ceiling. She went down. Or had she ducked first? Mulder couldn't be sure. The shaking stopped. A few more tiles plopped onto the rubble, but nothing touched Mulder. The silence was absolute, eerie in comparison to the thunder only a few moments before. Mulder blinked, suddenly becoming aware as though waking from a nightmare. He heard the buzz of the lights. The whir of the ventilation. Nothing more. He coughed, choking on the dust from the crumbled ceiling. A barricade of debris divided the room. His heart raced. Scully was on the other side. "Scully?" Why was he yelling? "Are you OK?" He waited, listening, for seconds that felt like hours. Nothing. Maybe she's unconscious, he thought, and refused to think further as he began to tear at the ceiling tiles and books. "I'll get you out of there," he swore. It was dark. And dusty. Her head hurt and she tasted blood. She could hear Mulder's voice, but couldn't respond. All thoughts were blocked by an incredible breathtaking pain originating in her hand. She felt totally helpless, blocked into the small space under the desk. He's coming, she thought. I trust him. But she would have felt better if they hadn't argued. Mulder heard a thin, breathy cry, the type of sound he would have expected from a tiny kitten and not his partner. He couldn't breathe. It's bad, he thought, if she's crying, it must be bad. "Scully?" The rubble was worse than he'd thought. He started to sweat as she tried to move faster. "Mulder?" her voice was shaky. He closed his eyes in relief. "Are you OK?" "No." She sounded like a child. She fought to keep her voice flat and unemotional, but still it rose at the end with a sob. "I hit my head." There was a silence too long for him to be comfortable with it, then he heard her sniffle loudly. His stomach lurched. She was crying. "Talk to me." Soothing, he thought, don't let her know you're terrified. "It's so stupid," she said hesitatingly, "I'm pretty sure I broke my finger. And it hurts, Mulder." Her voice was strained. "More than anything I ever remember." She found herself unable to stop the tears. "Are you crying?" he asked. She didn't answer. "Please. Don't cry." He was desperate. "Mulder?" she asked after a long pause, trying to compose herself. "I'm sorry I shot you." Her voice gave out at the end. Mulder thought his heart would break, thinking of her trapped and alone, in pain, thinking about having hurt him months ago. "It's OK," he said, "You had to. It didn't hurt at all," he lied. "You - you always pretend nothing hurts you," she said. "But I see you, and it does." I could say the same about you, he thought, and grunted as a book slid down on his toe. Good job, hurt yourself, he thought. "Let's talk about something else," he suggested. "I didn't mean what I said," she said softly and he knew she was still crying. "I admire you." Mulder pretended he hadn't heard. "Something cheerful," he continued, "Sing with the radio." "I don't hear the radio." Mulder stopped. Neither did he. "It must've gone off." They fell into silence as he worked to clear a path. He tried to ignore the little sounds of her discomfort, but he could feel them slowly eating away at him. "Did you hear that?" she asked finally. "Those clicking thumps?" Mulder stopped a second to listen. "The Geiger counter." The words were out before he could stop them. Scully didn't answer. He heaved a block out of the way and saw her, huddled in the kneehole of the desk, her face white. Blood was trickling from her mouth. He drew in a hard breath. She crawled out on her knees, but couldn't maneuver herself up. She turned her huge, scared eyes to Mulder and stretched out her hands for him to pull her up. He felt sick when he saw the swollen lump her left pinky finger had become. There was no way he could grasp it to pull her up and cause her that agony. He bent, put his arms around her, and lifted her out of the mess. Her arms clung tightly around his neck and he could feel her trembling. He took a couple of unsteady steps backwards and released her, breathing hard with the effort. She slid down the length of his body, still pressed against him, her arms still locked around his neck. Mulder's breath caught raggedly when he saw the look in her eyes. Her gaze was steady on him, her breath coming too fast. Her mouth opened, inviting. He leaned in closer to her, caught in the moment. He stopped when he felt her awkward finger jab against his skin. She exhaled against the pain and pulled away, instantly self-consious and ashamed, words from their fight echoing in her head. -Can't you feel the pull between us? he'd asked. Fire. Attraction. Chemistry. Mulder watched her. Had she really wanted him to kiss her? Had he really been about to do it? What was he supposed to say now? Scully examined her bruised finger, swaying on her feet. "You have to set it for me," she said. "I can't do it myself." "Can't we just leave it?" Mulder asked, hoping. "What if I do it wrong?" "I'll tell you what to do." "Have you ever set a broken bone?" he asked insightfully. Her eyes averted and guilt flooded through him, wishing he could take back words from their fight. -What good is a doctor in the FBI? You were incompetent, he'd accused. You're only fit to work on dead people. "You have to do it, Mulder." she said quietly, intensely serious. He met her eyes. "I don't think I can hurt you, Scully." His voice was raw with total honesty. You already have, she thought. "It's numb," she lied. She closed her eyes. "I feel like I'm going to throw up," she groaned. "How's your head?" he asked. She shook it slightly - don't ask - and sank down to the floor. Mulder sat down across from her, his brow furrowed with concern. "OK." She opened her eyes, gathering her strength and taking charge. "I want you to get the bones lined up and bind it." She looked at the small triangle of the white T-shirt that was visible at the collar of his overshirt. "Tear up your T-shirt." "Good thing I'm not wearing my black turtleneck," he joked as he unbuttoned his cotton shirt and pulled off his undershirt. She avoided looking at his bare skin. His mind went back, past their fight this time. -Do you think I'm Spooky? he'd asked her, trying to make her uncomfortable. He rebuttoned his shirt and sat there twisting the white T-shirt in his hands. She looked at him. Mulder didn't think he could do this. His hand shook slightly as he reached out, seeking a connection to her. Tenderly he wiped the line of blood from her chin. She looked confused. "You're bleeding," he said gently, continuing to stroke her perfect skin. "I bit my lip." she said. "Hard." He nodded sadly. "Mulder." Her good hand captured the one he was touching her face with. "Just do this. Don't talk about it, don't try to make it nice, don't think about it. Just...do it." "I left my Nikes at home." His heart wasn't in it. She held her hand out to him, tensing the rest of her body in anticipation. Her eyes squeezed shut. Then she changed her mind and relaxed, concentrating on breathing though her mouth, waiting for him to take her hand. He might forget the feel of her bones under his finger. But he would never forget her scream for as long as he lived. "It feel better already," she said, but wouldn't look at him. "I'm sorry." Mulder said. It wasn't enough. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He brushed the tears from her face with his thumbs. Scully jerked her head away from his touch. "We have to get out of here." She got up and turned to wipe the tears away herself. He stood, but hung back. She turned and looked at him. "The files." he said sheepishly, not expecting her to understand. -The X Files are your life! she'd yelled at him. She nodded once and walked away. He carefully opened the first drawer. "We have a problem." she said. Mulder looked over to see her tapping the Geiger counter with her index finger. "This thing is almost off the scale." "It's not clicking." he said, walking over to her. She had to be reading it wrong. -You're incompetent, he'd said. "It was before," Scully reminded him. He checked the dial. The needle was hovering in the danger zone. He hit the machine with the flat of his hand, but the reading never wavered. "What's in the files?" she asked. "They're encrypted." His frustration bled through in his tone. He could tell what she was thinking in the second before she broke their eye contact : wasted trip. "I'm sure that thing's wrong, but we should get out of here." She tensed when he put his arm around her, but he didn't remove it. They went out into the hall. And stopped. A metal wall had dropped from the ceiling to seal off their end of the hallway. "What if it wasn't an earthquake?" Scully asked, her mind kicking into overdrive. "What if it was a nuclear blast?" "It couldn't be," Mulder said, but that didn't explain the dread he felt in his stomach. Or the Geiger counter's reading. Scully turned and went back into the file room. He watched as she twisted the radio knob as far as it would go. No stations; only silence now. He walked in and looked at the Geiger counter. It had dropped slightly. "We're trapped." she said. "Someone will find us." "No one knows we're here!" her voice reverberated off the walls. -You always go off without a word to anyone, she'd said. You call me to tell me you're in trouble and then hang up. You get yourself half killed and no one knows where to look for you. "There's another room on this side of the seal." Mulder said quietly. "Maybe there are supplies in there." She turned to him, meeting his eyes. "If that was an earthquake, why haven't there been any aftershocks?" she said seriously. Valid question, he thought, his uneasiness growing. They went into the other room. It was undamaged. There were four cots lined up against the wall. Mulder opened the big metal locker on the opposite wall. It contained blankets, food and water. He looked around. Over in the corner, the door to a tiny bathroom stood open. He saw Scully standing near the cots, looking small and weary. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be all right, but he couldn't. "Sit down. Get some rest." he told her. She looked at him. "Where are you going?" "See if I can make sense out of those files." Mulder answered darkly, as though it were none of her business. "You're exhausted," she said, feeling guilty for not having noticed before. He shrugged. "Don't do this." she snapped. "Don't carry the weight of this on your shoulders alone." "How's your head?" he asked. "I'll live." Uncomfortable silence. Mulder reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, but he still wasn't able to get their earlier argument out of his head. -You're always touching me, she'd said. -You've never complained before, he'd retorted. Their eyes met. He knew she was thinking back to the same moment. "You're right," he said, resigned, and went into the other room. She followed him. He sat down on the floor with one of the files, trying to ignore her. She sat down as well, but he knew she was staring at him. "Mulder?" she said finally. Against his better judgement, he said back, "Scully?" "What are you thinking about?" You, he thought, shifting uncomfortable. But he couldn't say that. "We can try to climb up through the ceiling to get out of here." he said. "Do you believe it was just an earthquake?" she asked. "Don't you?" he frowned, not looking up. She didn't answer. He heard the pages of the file she was looking at shift and shift again. "What do you think, then?" he asked. She didn't answer. They drifted into stubborn silence, looking at files they couldn't read. XXX Scully awoke some time later without realizing she'd slept until she opened her eyes. She stretched and put down the file. She wondered where Mulder had gone. Then she heard him throwing up. "Mulder?" she called, her pulse racing. She ran through the other room to the small bathroom. Mulder leaned his head weakly against his arm, embarrassed to have her see him this way but without enough strength to make her go away. His stomach was still churning. She came up beside him and sat down. With her good hand, she pushed the sweaty hair back from his face and felt his clammy forehead. "How long have you been sick?" she asked. "Not long." he croaked. She rubbed reassuring circles on his back. "Do you feel better now?" she asked, watching him. "No." He threw up again. Mulder was incredibly embarrassed, but it was also kind of nice not being alone, he thought. He wiped his mouth and got to his feet, feeling stronger. He rinsed his mouth, grimacing at the taste of the water from the tap. Scully got up and tried to think of something to say. She failed. Mulder saw the worried look she was giving him. "Think it's radiation sickness?" he asked dryly. She frowned, but he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "Or food poisioning from that dive where we had lunch." She said. "You feeling OK?" he asked. She nodded and they went back out into the other room. Scully sat down cross-legged on a cot, her eyes fixed on him. He sank down on the cot across from her. "It couldn't have been a nuclear blast, Scully." he said. "We're not at war with anyone." "That doesn't mean anything." she said and he knew she was right. "I just don't think it was an earthquake. Not with the Geiger counter. Not without aftershocks." "You realize what you're saying?" he asked. She thought about how ridiculous this was going to sound. The world had been living with the possibility of complete nuclear annihilation for fifty yeats, but hadn't really accepted its consequences. It didn't seem quite real. She, of all people, should want more proof. "We could be among the last people left on earth." Mulder tensed at the familiar words. Of course, they'd been significantly different during their fight. -You're a pigheaded egoistic chauvinist, she'd yelled at him, I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on earth! Now she was sitting there across from him and it was possibly true. His eyes lingered on her and he couldn't keep himself from thinking what a beautiful woman she truly was. Mulder took a deep breath and held it. This was not happening, he thought. "I don't wanna think about it," he said and flopped down on the cot. She opened her mouth to make a sharp comment about denial, but stopped herself, remembering their shouting match in the car. -It's a closure problem, she'd said about his sister. You're in denial. -Yeah well, he'd returned, hurt, At least I don't deny my own sexuality. It had been a cheap shot and it hurt her even now that he thought so little of her as a person. She watched him pull his knees up next to his chest in the fetal position as though he had to protect himself. She cared about him. Don't let him be sick, God, she thought quickly. Let this be all right. Scully sat up for a long time watching him rest. She stared at him, her eyes trailing down the length of his spine, feeling that familiar pull of attraction. She caressed his broad shoulders with her eyes and stopped at the vulnerable bit of exposed skin at the nape of his neck. She yearned to touch him. Mulder couldn't sleep, not with Scully's eyes examining him like an Xray. He rolled onto his back and looked her in the eye. Caught you, he smirked. She didn't look away and the moment hung on too long. "What if we are the last people, Mulder?" she asked seriously in a low voice. Mulder found it hard to get a breath. "This isn't Noah's Ark, Scully." "I feel like we should be doing something." "What are you suggesting?" he asked smoothly. He saw the color rise in her cheeks and she finally looked away. Mulder felt himself relax. -You think you're God's gift to women, she'd said. -Yeah, and you're a lousy old maid, he'd returned. "Mulder?" she said, her head still turned away from him, embarrassed. "Do you ever think about -" "Damn it." Mulder snapped. She turned in his direction, but she already knew. The lights had gone off. "Where's your flashlight?" Scully asked, feeling the darkness pressing in on her. She didn't like it. "Right here." Mulder answered. Clunk. A long pause. "I dropped it." "I guessed." Scully said, getting up off her cot to see if the lights in the hall were off, too. A tiny nugget of fear settled in her stomach. If the generator had gone off.... Mulder started for the door to see if the light in the hall was still on. He doubted it. Their bodies collided with some force in the darkness. Scully let out a soft cry of surprise as her forehead and nose met Mulder's solid chest. His hands came up instinctively to protect himself, even though he knew it was her, and they settled on her shoulder, brushing a soft lock of her hair. He captured it in his fingers, investigating it further. Neither of them moved away. "Mulder." It was halfway a question, strangled and breathless, as his hands cupped her face. She didn't know why she closed her eyes; she couldn't see anything with them open. "Scully." It was a statement, an intention. A need. Though her heart was pounding, she knew what she had to do. Scully put her head down and took a step back, ending the sweet contact between them. "No," she murmured. He let out a heavy breath and she gathered all her strength to speak. "It's a survival instinct. Fear, lust - it's adrenaline. The body can't tell the difference." At least a dozen unkind retorts flooded into his mind, but he thought it safer to deny anything had just happened. For the second time that day. Mulder pulled open the door to the hall. No light came in. "That's that." he said. "Generator's out. Better find the flashlight." He got down on his hands and knees, doubting he could withstand another close encounter. They'd come so close and it was getting harder to fight. He felt along the wall for the flashlight. Scully crossed the room and stumbled into a cot, banging her shin. She clenched her teeth on her yelp of pain and dug in the pocket of her slacks. She struck a match. "Hey." said Mulder, easily impressed, and picked up the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it at her. He watched the sensual movement of her arm as she shook the match out. "I think I can tell the difference," he said in a low, almost threatening voice. "What?" her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "Between fear and lust." he said. "You may not be able to tell the difference, but I can." She met his 'GQ look' with her 'that's a lame theory' look. "Really?" she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest. She winced, remembering her finger, and let her arms drop. "That wasn't fear. Or lust." he informed her. She tilted her head. "This is starting to sound like semantics, Mulder. Or is it another case of, 'if there's an iced tea in that bag, Scully.' 'On the next spin of the wheel, Scully.' 'If I don't get my head blown off by some damn maniac then maybe -'" She stopped shouting, an empty ache in her chest. She didn't want to fight anymore. "Get the flashlight out of my eyes." Mulder set the light down, but he kept staring at her. "What?" she demanded. His look didn't change. "Come on, Mulder, I know you must have something to say so just -" "You're hot." he said, thinking. That stopped her for a second. "Gee, thanks, *Frohicke*." She said, angry. "No, I mean -" he grabbed her arm and his hands were ice cold. She struggled, but he touched his hand to her forehead. "You're hot, you have a fever." She jerked away. "I do not." She could still feel his eyes on her. "Stop looking at me! Go look at a file. Or better yet, if you're ready to go..." "How are we going to do this?" asked Scully, standing next to Mulder, peering up into the vast hole in the ceiling of the file room. She looked at him and seeing the intense look of concentration on his face, she could imagine the complex processes going on inside his head. "Climb," he said finally. "You hold the flashlight and go up first. I'll follow. Come on, I'll give you a leg up." Mulder waited while she continued to look up into the hole doubtfully. Her shoulders dropped and she turned to him, taking the flashlight. "How are we-" she began and stepped toward him. He reached for her and she stepped back quickly, trying to figure out the logistics of the problem. "I'll just lift you and -" "I'll fly?" she asked. "Maybe you should go first and pull me up." Mulder shook his head. "Here." He bent and put his arms around her waist. Then he straightened and she was in the air. "Mulder!" she cried when her feet left the ground. "Don't squirm." he said, his voice strained. "Reach up." She did, but she was sure he was going to drop her. He pushed her and she crawled into the ceiling. "Coming?" she called. "In a minute." He pulled up a wobbly chair and looked up into the hole. "Get going." he told her. She moved forward a little hesitantly and he hauled himself up into the darkness. There was a faint glow up ahead from the flashlight. He'd have to trust her to lead the way. -You don't trust me and you don't respect me, she'd accused. -What have you done to earn that trust? he'd asked simply. -I've looked out for you. -Not when it counted. -Because when it counted, you wouldn't let me. Enough! he thought. He had to get the voices out of his head or they would never succeed. "There should be a ladder or something going down." he said. "Mulder, wasn't the point to keep people inside?" "Well...yes." "Then why do you think we're going to get out?" "Because we have to." They labored on in silence. Scully dreaded the moment that she would find a wall blocking their path, a dead end. She felt alone. How could she be sure Mulder was back there? Even if she turned around, it was dark. "Talk to me so I'll know you're back there." She said, trying not to sound desperate for reassurance. "What should I say?" "I don't care." she told him, and there was silence. -You never follow order, she'd accused. -You have no style, he'd said, that's why you have to do everything by the book. "Mulder are you back there?" she called. "Yeah." "What do you think we'll find out there?" she asked, not sure which was worse to consider - an eternity spent crawling in dark tunnels or escape only to find their planet destroyed? He didn't say anything. He didn't know, and by his standards, that was not an answer. He didn't want to lie and say everything would be all right, but he had no reason to believe it wouldn't be, either. "It's hideous to think of all the circumstances and coincidences it took to develop intelligent life on this planet coming about only to destroy it all over a tiny thing like politics." she said. "Scully, why did I never notice before that you're a pessimist?" Mulder had to smile. "I am not." "You are. An optimist says, 'It is' while a pessimist says, 'prove it.'" He was grinning now. "Sound familiar?" "I'm supposed to believe you're an optimist?" she asked incredulously. "'The government is plotting against me' - that's optimism?" "No, it's believing." "Ha. Prove it." She took comfort in the familiar words. "Exactly." Mulder was satisfied with being right. "After all the things you've seen -" "I think I've heard this one before." she interrupted dryly. "At this point, I'd feel better if you were telling me it was an unsettled spirit causing all our problems." -You are so afraid of the possibilities, he'd said, Afraid of experiencing the thrill of discovering something no one else knows. She wished she could get their fight out of her head. The hurtful words should have faded by now. "Here we are." she said. "Ladder." Scully stopped crawling and maneuvered herself awkwardly onto the rungs. Then she held the light up so Mulder could see. He was face to face with a big "7" painted on the wall. "How'd we get on the seventh level?" he asked. "Weren't we on the sixth?" "I thought so." she said, "Maybe they numbered it wrong." "Or maybe they labelled the ground floor as 2. Get off the ladder on 6, Scully, I have to check something out." he said, his mind racing. "Mulder -" "Just get out of my way." he insisted. Her feelings hurt, she did. He pushed out an access hatch and disappeared to the floor below. She heard him run down the hall before she even had the chance to follow him. When she caught up, he stood at the doorway of the room at the end of the hall. "Someone set off a bomb here, Scully." "Not a nuclear bomb." "Of course not." She frowned. "Who? Why?" His eyes focused on hers. "This is where we were supposed to be. Sixth floor, file room." "He was trying to kill us?" she asked surprised. "He?" Mulder stiffened. "What do you know about this?" He approached her savagely. "Mr. X. He's the one who gave you this information, isn't he?" Scully cried, stumbling backwards, "This was all a set-up to get you out of the way and you walked right into it." He was still looking at her as though she was the one who'd tried to kill him. "I told you not to trust him, Mulder. If he has access to all the information you think he has, why would he tell you? Why you?" His eyes were cold as he said bitterly, "What I can't figure out is why you saved my life." "What?" she was stunned. "You've obviously been in on this plan since the beginning. So why'd you do it, Scully?" Mulder was much too close to her now. She'd foolishly backed herself right into a wall. There was nowhere to go. His arms touched the wall on either side of her body, a prison. "Some plan to convince me the world had ended?" She could feel his hot, angry breath on her face. "Seduce me into trusting you? Telling you all my secrets?" "You don't have any secrets." she said, terrified. She'd never seen Mulder this dark and dangerous before. He grabbed her hair and yanked it, making her look at him. "What game are you playing?" "Mulder, you're hurting me." She said, pushing him, but his body was like a wall. "Why are you doing this?" The edge to her voice got through to him. Mulder blinked and saw Scully there, his partner, not some Smoke Ring stooge. Her eyes were wide and full of pain. He had hurt her. His stomach ached. How could he have done this? How could he turn on the only person he knew he could trust? He released her and walked away, ashamed and hating himself. Scully just stood there, the flashlight beam trained on his back, trying to make sense of his madness. After all this time, he still thought she was no more than a spy. "Let's go." she said quietly and found the stairwell unblocked. Without waiting for Mulder, she started down. She didn't stop until she was out in the sunlight. She could hear Mulder's footsteps behind her and fought the urge to run into the forest and hide from him. Instead she shut off the flashlight and stood by the passenger door of the car, waiting for him to get in and unlock her door. He didn't. Mulder walked up to her and Scully edged away from the car, keeping her back to open space, wary of another attack. "You're right." he said. "That's supposed to mean something?" she demanded. "I've spent hours replaying our childish argument from the drive up here in my head, regretting every word I said to you and daring to hope you were regretting it too. But you don't care about me at all. You don't respect me as a human being. In fact -" she met his eyes. "You don't even think I respect myself. You believe every damn thing in this world on faith but you can't believe I'm on your side." "Scully -" he reached for her and she slapped him. Hard. Across the face. He stared and her face crumpled. "Feel better?" he asked gently. "No." He tried again. "I'm sorry -" "Sorry isn't going to do it." "I was angry. I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't thinking at all. I struck out -" "At me. As usual. Because you know what," she said bitterly, "I'm the only one who'se ever around, close enough for you to strike out at." "I know." he said quietly. She shook her head. "The real crime of this is, I like you, Mulder. I like you and I respect you and I believe in our work. At times -" She broke off, choking into a laugh as tears she couldn't fight gathered in her eyes. "I'm sorry." he said again. "I -" there were so many things to say and for once his glib tongue wouldn't fix this for him. "I was wrong. I hurt you. Because I was hurt." "Excuses." she said, refusing to listen. "I need you, Scully." he said sincerely. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes and saw that he meant it. He saw a single tear slide down her face. You did that, he told himself, you made her cry. "I hate myself for hurting you. All the times I've hurt you. Including the stupid things I said." They faced each other in silence, but she would only look past him. "Can you forgive me?" She sighed. He expected her to say no. "I always do." she said, meeting his eyes for a moment. He could feel the connection between them, actually stronger than ever. She looked away but let him put a hand on her arm as he unlocked the car. He got in and was relieved to hear the radio. Mulder looked at Scully but she was staring out the window. It would take a long time for things to heal between them, he knew, but he also knew she didn't hold grudges. Not like he did. They needed each other, in more ways than they would ever admit. Things would be OK again. It would just take time. He put the car into gear and started slowly down the road. There had been answers in the mountain, but not the kind he'd been expecting. The End. Well, it was one of those endings like I always have. And my apologies to Mr. X's fans - I know he has some - he kind of got scapegoated at the end, for the sake of characters, but if it makes you feel better, I don't think he did it. Oh, and for fun I tried to piece together the argument they'd been having, but it just came out a jumbled mess. Please tell me what you thought. It's very important to me. eponine119 eponine@uci.edu