From: "The Fox" Date: Tue, 08 Jan 2002 17:22:58 +1100 Subject: xfc: Vitamus by The Fox Source: xfc TITLE: Vitamus AUTHOR: The Fox E-MAIL: xmarksthespot8@hotmail.com SPOILERS: Through S7 RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: MSR DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, would I be here writing this? I don't even get paid! SUMMARY: Scully desires another existence, another life, or so she thought. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was an idea that was born from watching too many re-runs of Groundhog Day! Urging from a certain person also helped -- Thanks FX. And thanks to my new friend, Kimpa (cyberspace kiss for ya!) for her support and beta!! This is dedicated to you! You can also find my work comfortably settled into her warm website at www.kimpart.com Take a visit. You won't be disappointed. Trust me. ;) XXXXXXXXXX Vitamus by The Fox Washington D.C. Friday 7.20pm She was nauseous. Dana Scully leaned against the wall by the elevator in the basement parking lot of the Hoover Building. She had had enough! This had been the last straw! She couldn't take it any more! The echoes of her argument raced through her mind - no, strike that - it had been an outright war between them: between her and her partner, Fox Mulder. She was still shaking but had defiantly removed herself from the basement office, head held high and in perfect stance only to collapse upon herself within the elevator. She was grateful it was late and there had been no one in the lift with her at that particular time. No one could see her gripping the wall, knuckles white with the effort and leaning heavily to one side trying to ride the waves of nausea that racked her petite frame. They had fought, but not like they had in the past. Almost seven years and nothing like this. Ever. No words had ever been spoken between them like today. Harsh, hurting, vehement. It had been over a case. It was always over some particular case but this time she was determined that he would see it her way. He was wrong. He was wrong and would not admit it; would not even consider the possibilities as he had in the past. And, she had had enough. Something snapped within her and they shouted blatantly at each other, scolding words lashing, echoing in the basement office walls. It had been audible to several agents passing by: one in particular who had the misfortune of rapping on the office door out of curiosity. He was sent on his way rather curtly to say the least, wondering if he should change his bet within the office pool. "Enough, Mulder!" "So you've had enough and now you're willing to concede?" "What?! You arrogant, obstinate son of a bitch!" For Scully to have uttered profanity, she was definitely enraged. "Oh, I'm arrogant and obstinate? Take a look in the mirror some time Agent Scully! You just don't have it in you to believe, do you?" Believe? It wasn't about belief, but she wasn't going to stand for an outrageous verbal attack by this man. "How can you say that? I have done nothing but try to believe you! How many times have I given you the benefit of the doubt? More times than I care to remember and sometimes with the most pathetic, outlandish theories you..." "Pathetic, huh? Well I don't need you to give me 'the benefit of the doubt'!" "Fine!" Scully threw the file she had been gripping tightly since the argument started onto her desk. Papers spilled out but she did not move to tidy them. "That's it, Mulder! I don't need this! I don't want this! Fine, you don't need my opinions! You just don't need me period! I'm out of here!" "Go home and sleep it off!" Mulder collapsed in his chair, not sure if he had heard her correctly. "No, Mulder, this is something I just can't sleep off! I'm out! I'm finished with the X-Files as of right now!" She locked eyes with her partner. Anger raged behind both agents' eyes. Mulder's face, though, slackened somewhat. "I'm going to Skinner's office now and ask for a transfer." Her voice returned to normal level. "I'll clean out my things on the weekend so you won't have to put up with me on Monday." "Scully..." Mulder leaned forward in his chair, realisation of the situation dawning on him, but pride kept his mouth clamped tight. Scully folded her jacket over her arm, turning back from the door. "Goodbye, Mulder." "Fine!" He cleared his desk of the phone, his in-tray, several files and the mouse pad in one sweep of his arm as she closed the door between them. "Fuck!" And so she had left him. Assistant Director Skinner, bemused and shocked, tried to rationalise the situation with her. If she had been in a better frame of mind, perhaps it might have worked, but at that particular moment, the only solution was a transfer, effective immediately or resignation. Skinner could not persuade her otherwise but was not willing to transfer her. Scully grasped at the final straw then: resignation. She had risen to her feet, placed her ID wallet, holster and Sig Sauer on the desk before a white-faced Skinner and left. Done. Finished. It was all over. XXXXXXXXXX She couldn't drive. Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own. The nausea had subsided, but the shaking was still evident. Scully decided it best if she hailed a cab home and steadied herself against the wall as she exited the building. It had started to rain. Great. No umbrella, no car and no coat. This day could not get any worse, or so she thought. No cabs in sight, probably due to the change in weather. Scully's mind churned over the incidents of the past hour, tears welling in her eyes as she gave way to her pent up emotions. Emotions that she had willed away from Mulder's view. She would not let him have the satisfaction. Her vision blurred and her head pounded with the onslaught of the headache that had begun in Skinner's office. She hunched her shoulders over, wrapping her jacket more tightly against her frame, trying to block out the wind and rain. She didn't see the light change color. Didn't see the van swerve around the kerb until the sound of tyres skidding woke her from her troubled thoughts. Woke her too late to avoid the collision. Searing pain engulfed her left side and as she fell to the ground vivid visions of moments in her life flashed before her eyes, only to be pitched into darkness as her head collided with the concrete below. XXXXXXXXXX "Miss? Miss! Are you okay?" A voice from somewhere above her. "Somebody call an ambulance!" Scully's eyes fluttered open. Her head was pounding. She lifted her hand to her brow, her temple, her scalp. No contusions, no blood. She scanned over the crowd that had formed around her. "No. No ambulance. Please. I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." She pushed the hand that was on her shoulder away, attempting to rise to her feet. Her legs wobbled slightly beneath her at first but adjusted to her weight in a matter of seconds. "Are you sure lady? I thought maybe I'd killed you! You came outta nowhere!" "I'm fine. Really." She dusted down her suit, rubbing at a dirt stain on her skirt. She noticed the right knee of her stocking now possessed a gaping hole. Great. "Miss, I can take you to a hospital." A small burly man in a red cap offered. "No. No hospital. Thank you. I just need a cab." Scully prodded her left side but found nothing broken. Most likely to have bruises tomorrow though. She just wanted to get home where the safety of her apartment waited. XXXXXXXXXX The lights were on, she'd noted as the cab pulled away from the front entrance. Mulder had no right to be there. Probably waiting to apologise, she surmised, but she would not relent. Not this time. The damage had been done. Scully stormed through her door, expecting to bestow one hell of a tongue-lashing upon Mulder and stopped dead in her tracks. She hitched in a breath not able to exhale. Melissa padded out from the kitchen to greet her younger sister home. "Dana? What's wrong?" It couldn't be. She was dead! Shot dead! Yet, there she was, a concerned look on her face creasing her brow. "Missy? No. It can't be. You... You're... No." Scully fiercely scrubbed at her eyes. It couldn't be. Had to be some kind of illusion. Maybe she really did have a concussion. "Dana? What? What's wrong?" Melissa stroked her sister's hair, pulling her into an embrace, trying to comfort her. "You can't... be here." Scully managed to say. Tears were flowing and it had become hard to breathe. "Why, honey? You have a date or something? Did I come by at the wrong time?" Melissa pulled back, searching her sister's eyes. What was going on? "I don't... understand." "What, Dana? What don't you understand? Tell me." Melissa pulled Scully to the couch, where she continued to stroke her hair. "Missy... you... you were... dead." Melissa stared wide-eyed at Scully, then her face collapsed into a smile. She roared with laughter. "Dana, I think I would know if I was dead, don't you? You want to pinch me to make sure?" Her sister shook her head. "Why would you think that?" "You were shot." Melissa jumped up from the couch, rotated around in a full circle and fell back beside Scully. "Do I look like I'm dead or shot?" Scully shook her head again. "Okay, then. Dana, never mind me, you don't look so good. Did something happen to YOU?" "I... I was hit." "'Hit'?" "By a car." "Jesus! Dana, and you're worried about me being dead! No wonder you're acting this way. Honey, I'm going to take you to a hospital. You're probably in shock or something." "No. I'm fine, just few bruises. Missy, you were dead! I know that you..." "Oh Dana, come on. I really think you're either in shock or have a concussion. You're the doctor, you should be telling me!" "I'm pretty sure I'm okay. Missy..." Scully pulled her sister tight against her, releasing great sobs. "I've missed you so much!" "I was just here last weekend. Honey, I think you need to rest." Melissa returned Scully's embrace, pondering if she was actually in need of medical treatment. It was like her sister had just seen a ghost! XXXXXXXXXX Washington D.C. Saturday 9.12am Scully had had to reassure herself all night that her sister, Melissa, was actually alive, sleeping on her couch. She would wake with a jolt, slip into the living room and stand over her sister in the dark, watching her for several minutes, almost afraid that she would disappear the moment she blinked. The smell of toast filled Scully's nostrils. She squinted at the sun's rays filtering through her bedroom window and stretched. She was tired from her night's vigil, but extremely happy despite her ordeal last night. Melissa. Missy was alive! By some miracle, she was alive! Scully threw the covers from her body and bolted to the living room. Melissa was not on the couch. Had it been a dream all along? "Missy?" "Morning!" Melissa stepped away from the kitchen bench, coffee cup in hand. Relief washed over Scully and she had to fight back the tears threatening to flow again. Missy was alive. Scully threw her arms around her sister, coffee spilling onto the floor. "Dana!" Melissa tried to steady her hand, holding the cup away from her over-enthusiastic sister. Scully pulled back, hand still on her sister's shoulder. "I still can't believe it." Melissa sighed and returned to the kitchen to retrieve a wad of paper towels. "You know," Melissa began to wipe the mess from the floorboards, "I still think you should go to the hospital. Maybe you really have something wrong. You don't start back at work there until Monday, right?" "'There'? At the hospital? Do I have something scheduled there? I can't remember." Scully scratched her head, still in a daze over the thought of her sister here with her. "'Scheduled'? What are you talking about? You work there." Scully took a moment to process this information. Maybe she really did have concussion or even amnesia. "I work where?" "George Washington Memorial Hospital. Dana, I think something is seriously wrong here." Melissa threw the paper towels into the trash and returned to her sister's side, inspecting her head for any bumps. Scully brushed her hands aside and took them into her own. "I work for the FBI. You know, in the Hoover Building." "Dana, years ago you turned down the offer." Could this be happening? Had she been inflicted with some form of amnesia or was she actually dead, reliving some past hope? "Missy, I don't know what's going on. I thought you were dead, I thought I worked..." Scully reached down for the arm of the couch, slowly resting herself on the edge, not risking the chance of her knees buckling from under her. "Okay," Melissa kissed the top of Scully's head, "that does it. After you have something to eat, we're going to the hospital and have you looked over. Hit by a car and you just come home! I swear if you say that you're fine to me again, I'll scream!" XXXXXXXXXX Apparently Scully had worked on staff at The George Washington Memorial Hospital for the past seven years. Pathology. Forensics. What happened to her seven years with the FBI? The seven years as Special Agent Dana Scully? The seven years partnered to Special Agent Fox Mulder? This felt surreal, crazy, and absolutely insane! Something that should be filed in the X-Files division! There had been no reason to keep Scully in hospital. Perhaps it was a mild form of amnesia after all. The doctor could find nothing. However, 'mild' was not how she felt. Melissa had dragged her around all day in a haze. They shopped, they talked, they laughed, and reminisced. Melissa was alive and with her. The fear that it would all disappear before her still loomed, but she was happy right now. Scully could not ask for more. Or could she? Was this the life she actually wanted? Was this a chance to live the life she thought she was on the path to taking in the world that she conceived to be real only a day ago? Where was that life she thought she'd led? What had happened? Where was Mulder? If he existed in this life, did he know that she existed? Why was she even thinking of him? In that other life that only yesterday was real to her, she had broken away from him: left him. "Hello? Dana? Earth to Dana?" Melissa squeezed Scully's arm from across the table of the restaurant. "I think we should file a law suit against that quack. I still don't think you're all here." "I'm fi..." Scully caught herself when Melissa puffed her cheeks and exhaled loudly. "I will be okay. I think maybe I do have some form of amnesia. I remember everything: my name, my family, my apartment, street names and yet I don't remember other things. But I possess other memories. Missy, I don't know how to explain it to you. Maybe... Maybe it's some form of selective memory lapse." "Maybe you're experiencing a spiritual visitation or perhaps reliving someone else's memories, someone else's past experiences." Scully waved her hand in front of her sister, an arched eyebrow discouraging her thoughts. Mulder-thoughts. "Or..." Melissa continued, ignoring the disbelieving look she received. "It could be that you've been given a chance to view a different life. A path that maybe you wanted to take." Melissa's words rang in her ears. Maybe... No, it was just too outrageous to even consider. But weren't these the thoughts that she herself had just had? Melissa was always interested in 'spiritual healing' and 'the power of the mind to heal' but Scully was never one to consider these ideas. In the past years she had seen so much though; opened her mind to certain possibilities. But the scientist in her reigned supreme and it was hard to think of anything except in medical terms. Still... XXXXXXXXXX George Washington Memorial Hospital Washington D.C. Monday 9.05pm The day was one of the longest she had ever experienced. Scully had been on her feet all day. She'd had to answer concerned questions when she had no memory of names or schedules. Nameless faces surrounded her. When she was asked to assist in emergency due to lack of staff later that evening, it gave her the opportunity to escape the questions and the curious eyes. ER also gave Scully the opportunity to interact with live patients. Med school seemed an eternity ago. After today, maybe the life she thought she had led would too. "Dr. Scully?" A clipboard was handed to her from the nurse's station. "We can't thank you enough for filling in tonight." A brilliant smile from the nurse followed. Nurse Stella Johnston her nameplate read. "I've got to say, it's been a long time since I've done this and I'm exhausted." "Like riding a bike as far as I can see." Nurse Johnston motioned to the door on Scully's left. "Your last patient is in four. He's a regular." "'Regular'?" Scully glanced at the closed door and then returned to the nurse. "See him here a lot. Maybe he thinks this is his second home." She reached for the phone that had begun to shrill. "Unusual name. Can be a bit obnoxious, but harmless." "Great." She would deal with it. Her last patient and then home to a soak in a hot tub; maybe with bubbles and scented candles. A figure was sitting on the examining table, back toward her, fidgeting with the medical supplies on the desk next to the table. That figure was all too familiar. He turned when he heard the door close. "Hey, doc!" His intense gaze wandered over her frame. "Haven't seen you in here before. New?" "I... ah... " Scully pretended to check his name on the clipboard. "I'm just filling in." "Oh." He swung his long legs over to the edge of the table so that he could face her completely. "Mr... Mulder?" She hoped her voice was natural. Her stomach was lurching. He nodded and leaned forward, perusing the hospital ID badge on her left hip. "Dr. Scully." This was so weird, so very bizarre. He existed in this world, but he didn't know her. This was going to be very difficult. "So, Mr. Mulder, what seems to be the problem?" Mulder sat back, frowning, then tapped the clipboard she held with a finger. "Shouldn't it be in there?" Some things didn't change. She placed the clipboard on the desk, returning to his side, leaving some distance between them, hands on hips. "I'm sure it is," she feigned, "but I'm just filling in, remember? Humour me." Mulder produced a lopsided grin. He liked this doctor. She was not only the most attractive doctor he'd seen here over the years, but she wasn't going to take any of his shit. She had grit, he could tell. "Okay, I'm here to have stitches removed. I don't know why I wasn't given those dissolving ones then I wouldn't have to be here." "And of course you had somewhere better to be?" Feisty. Left him speechless, something he was definitely not used to. "So, Mr. Mulder, it all depends on the type of wound..." "Yeah, yeah, I've heard all this before. Can we get on with this?" He proceeded to remove his shirt. A fading bruise surrounded a red, slightly puffy area on his left shoulder. A bullet wound. It was in the exact location she had shot him some years ago. No, that life had not existed. She drew in a breath, removed the tray on the desk and set it down next to Mulder. He studied her as she pulled on the latex gloves and began to remove the stitches carefully. He found himself watching her, hypnotised by her well- manicured fingers working on his shoulder. Leaning so close, he could smell her shampoo, her perfume. She pursed her lips and creased her brow in concentration. Very hypnotic and somehow quite familiar. "Dr. Scully?" "Hmmm? Is it hurting?" "No, not at all. Have we met before?" Scully paused, leaning back slightly to see Mulder's face. Was this a 'line' or was he actually unsure? His expression seemed sincere. Surely that world she had thought was hers had not existed. "I don't think so." She continued to remove the stitches. "Oh. Maybe I've seen you around the hospital then." "Maybe. I hear you're a regular." "Aaah, the lovable Nurse Johnston. Says I should have my own permanent room. Warm lady, but bossy." Scully finished, covering the wound with a new bandage. As she discarded the gloves, removed the tray, and turned to face her patient, Mulder was already buttoning his shirt. "What is it you do, Mr. Mulder?" Maybe he wasn't the same person. She had to know. "FBI." And maybe things don't change no matter what world you lived in. "I see. Dangerous career path." Mulder looked up. He searched her face then lowered his eyes to finish with the buttons. "No more than most." "A man in denial." The words were out before she could stop them. She had no right to tell this man her thoughts. He wasn't the same Mulder she had known or at least thought she had known. Mulder stared at her silent; a look of confusion and then amusement came over his face. He stood, tucking his shirt into his suit trousers, not shifting his gaze from her the whole time. "Am I your last?" "Excuse me?" "Am I your last patient?" "Why?" Scully cleaned the tray, watching him in her peripheral vision. He gathered his suit jacket, slinging it over his right shoulder. "Just wondered. Its kind of late and there didn't seem to be any more patients out there." "There are always patients to see in ER." "So I'm not your last patient?" "As a matter of fact, you are." "You could've just said so." "Why do you need to know?" "Just curious. You look tired and..." "That would be considered a rude comment to make." "I assure you I can be worse." "I'll take your word for it." "You know, I may be rude, but you don't have much of a bedside manner." Mulder closed the door behind him. Just like old times. And it hurt all over again. Scully sighed, let her shoulders slump as she removed the white coat that covered her blouse and skirt. She threw it over the examining table and decided to leave the room for the nurses to clear. She WAS tired. Seeing Mulder had also been quite a shock to her system. She had certainly not anticipated a verbal confrontation with him either. Nurse Johnston manned the nurse's station, the phone to her ear. Scully placed the clipboard on the counter and pulled the log sheet toward her. After signing her name, she glanced at Nurse Johnston. She was still talking into the phone but she nodded toward the large sliding doors opposite. Mulder leaned against the doorframe, jacket still slung over his shoulder, staring at his feet. "I think he was waiting for you." Nurse Johnston covered the receiver with her hand, smiling at Scully. That smile held a mischievous quality. "What...?" Scully began, but Nurse Johnston resumed her conversation. Mulder looked up from his feet to see Scully turn from the nurse's station and head in the opposite direction. He bounded after her, almost knocking over the clipboard on the counter, receiving a growl from the large nurse. When he was out of earshot, she started to chuckle. She'd never seen him so enthusiastic in the hospital before. "Dr. Scully!" He caught up with her easily with his long strides. Scully sighed, stopped and turned. "Yes?" "I..." Mulder leaned against the corridor wall. "I just wanted to..." Mulder saw her right eyebrow arch. This was so difficult. He had no idea why he was even considering this. He just felt compelled. "I..." Mulder couldn't find any words. Shit! Why couldn't he form any words? He was NEVER lost for words and tonight it had occurred twice. "Mr. Mulder, it's late and if you don't have anything to say, I'd really like to leave." "I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He blurted out. Both eyebrows were raised this time. "I'm sorry for being an asshole back there. I tend to piss people off even when I don't intend to." Scully lowered her eyes to her hands, clasped tightly together. "I see. Well, I suppose my bedside manner is lacking today. I'm not used to seeing live patients." "Really?" Mulder had no idea what she was talking about, but he wasn't going to make things worse by asking. "Truce?" She raised her eyes to meet his. If he didn't know her, why was he bothering? Or why was she for that matter? Didn't she make up her mind to have nothing more to do with him? Even if that world had never existed, why was she even wondering? "Truce." She nodded. "Okay." Mulder produced another lopsided grin. "Can I take you for a coffee as a peace offering?" "Coffee?" He nodded, with a rather sheepish look. "Coffee would keep me awake all night and I'm really tired." "Oh. Okay then." His expression suddenly changed to embarrassment and he moved to slowly walk in the direction he had come from. "I prefer hot chocolate." Mulder turned to see a smile on her face, a smile that just about melted his heart. XXXXXXXXXX All Night Diner Washington D.C. Monday 1.13am "I don't know how you do it." Mulder leaned forward, resting his head on his right hand, elbow on the table. He shifted his plate to the side. "What do you mean?" "Detach yourself when you slice 'n' dice." Scully stifled a laugh. Slice and dice. A Mulder- terminology. No, perhaps things didn't change. "You get used to it." "I couldn't." Mulder shook his head, his hand moving in time with each shake. "In your line of work, you must see dead bodies all the time." "Dead bodies, but I don't have to cut them up." "Surely you must see worse in your division?" "My 'division'?" "In the Bureau." "Ah. What division do you think I'm in?" "I'd say..." Scully had to be careful not to divulge too much knowledge of the FBI, but she was curious about whether the X-Files actually existed. "Something unusual." "'Unusual'? Well, I meet some pretty unusual characters, but the division isn't unusual. I'm in something called violent crimes." "VCU?" Maybe the X-Files didn't exist. "Hey, you know your..." "I... I'm in forensics. Remember I told you? Police... You know." Scully played with the serviette. "So, how long have you been there?" "Seven years." "That long? So, not your entire time with the Bureau?" "No. I first started out there and was assigned to another division for a while. Didn't work out." Mulder leaned back against the seat. "Can I ask what division that was?" Scully prompted gently. "It was called the X-Files." So it had existed. "What happened?" "It folded. No support and lack of interest from higher up." "Just yourself in this X-Files?" "I had a few partners." "A few?" "I'm not the easiest person to work with and that was another problem. I was reassigned to VCU to work on my own. I profile." "Sounds like a lonely existence." He looked up at her, an intense gaze, but did not reply. "I'm sorry." Scully had to restrain herself from reaching out to touch his hand. "That was an insensitive thing to say and none of my business." Mulder shrugged, eyes still roaming her face. She tore her own eyes away and raised her left hand to the table to view her watch. "Damn! I had no idea it was this late!" Mulder glanced at his own watch. Where had the time gone? "Shit! I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." "It's not your fault." Scully stood, clutching her jacket and briefcase and headed for the door. Mulder followed, stopping at the cash register to pay. The cold hit them as they stepped into the street, both replacing their jackets. "Are you okay to get home?" Mulder shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "My car's in the hospital parking lot." "I'll walk you." He strolled beside her. "You don't have to." "As a matter of fact, I do." For the third time that night he witnessed an arched eyebrow. "My car's parked there too." Scully turned her face up to the man walking by her side and laughed. "Okay then." The car park was virtually empty except for the scarce few cars owned by the night staff and two ambulances parked by the emergency doors. Mulder waited as Scully settled behind the wheel. His car was on the other side of the building. Scully's window lowered. Mulder leaned down. "Thanks for the hot chocolate. Oh, and for the snack." She smiled. "Not much of a meal. How about I owe you another to make up for it?" Was he asking her on a date? "That's not necessary." "I'd like to... see you again." God, he was asking her on a date! Scully suddenly felt nervous. She also felt giddy. "I..." She clutched the steering wheel. "Is that a no? I suppose you're... " Mulder leaned back from the window, hands still on the door. "You're probably married or..." Scully shook her head. "No?" "No." "I find that hard to believe." "Not so hard to believe, really." "Yes, it is. You're beautiful, intelligent, easy to talk to and don't take any shit..." Scully laughed, releasing the steering wheel. "You have a way with words, Mr. Mulder." "I thought we agreed on Fox or just Mulder. So, in that case, yes or no?" Yes or no? Scully had to backtrack her thoughts. His eyes were hypnotic. "Okay, Mulder." "Okay?" His eyes went wide in astonishment. Mulder couldn't contain the grin that was forming on his face. "Okay." "How about tomorrow?" "Tomorrow?" "Too soon?" She couldn't help but laugh again. "Don't you have any cases that might take precedence?" "Slow season for serial killers. What time do you get off?" "I'd like to go home first." She reached into her briefcase and pulled a card from the side pocket. "This is my home address. Why don't you pick me up around seven? That is, if you're not working overtime." Mulder placed the card in his inside jacket pocket. "I think I have a reason not to now." XXXXXXXXXX Georgetown Tuesday 11.48pm Scully had no idea Mulder could be such a gentleman on a date. But then, she'd never been on a date with him. She knew that he could be concerned and caring, even gentle, but the impeccable manners that he had bestowed upon her tonight she'd never known existed: at least not for her. But then, this wasn't the Mulder that she had known or thought she had known in that life that either had or hadn't been. "I never knew that restaurant existed, Mulder." Scully placed her key in the lock of her apartment door. "It's a little out of the way. I guess you really have to like Italian to know it even exists." Mulder leaned back against the wall as she fiddled with the lock. "So," he blocked her entering with his arm across the doorframe in front of her, "I hope we can do this again?" Scully had expected Mulder would just follow her inside. She had forgotten that this particular Mulder hadn't even set foot inside her apartment and was most probably anticipating to either say goodnight at her door or to be asked in. "I... I don't know." She raised her head to find Mulder had leaned toward her, staring at her mouth. She brushed past, pushing the door wide open. Mulder fell to the right of the doorframe, turning and watching her scoot by, dropping her keys on the coffee table on the far side of the room. She switched on the lamp by the couch and proceeded to remove her coat. "I don't know about you, but I enjoyed the company." Mulder called across the room. Mulder hadn't moved from the door. One moment this woman seemed relaxed, almost content, conveying real interest in what he had to say and the next she seemed uncomfortable, even nervous around him. He still couldn't understand the feeling of familiarity about her. Scully returned to the door, playing with the doorknob. "I didn't mean... I DID have a nice time." "Just 'nice'. Okay..." Mulder pushed off the doorframe, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "Not exactly the word I was looking for, but better than 'it sucked' I suppose." "It was very pleasant." "'Pleasant.' One step up from 'nice'." Mulder concentrated on his boots. "Mulder..." Scully sighed and reached out to pull on his jacket sleeve. "Come in. If I don't have any coffee, it's possible I'll have some hot chocolate." Mulder raised his eyes to see Scully smiling and motioning for him to enter. He stepped inside, scanning the room, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with nervous energy. "Nice place." "Just 'nice'?" Scully arched an eyebrow in question. "Touche." Mulder chuckled. "A word used too often that we lack giving true meaning to it." "Why don't you sit down and I'll see what I have." "Only if it's no trouble." The impeccable manners were back. Hot chocolate with marshmallows. Something Mulder had not had since he couldn't even remember. Possibly during his childhood before his parents stopped caring. "You know," Mulder placed the mug on the table in front of him, "I can't even recall having such good company. Dana, you're really comfortable to be with." Scully's grip on her mug tightened. "You make me sound like an old armchair." "Armchairs are nice." "Ah, 'nice' again." "Dana?" Mulder reached forward, took the mug from her hands and set it on the table beside its mate. "You didn't answer my question before." "What question was that?" Scully made the mistake of glancing at him. Now she wouldn't be able to tear her eyes from his intense hazel-green gaze. "You were indecisive about whether we could do this again." "Oh." "Did I do something to warrant a definite no? I didn't unintentionally piss you off at all?" Scully shook her head. "You've been a perfect gentleman." Mulder placed a lock of Scully's hair behind her ear, letting his hand cup the side of her face. She felt a slight tremor run through her body at his touch. A touch so familiar. "Sometimes I surprise myself." Mulder's voice was almost a whisper. A thumb skimmed over Scully's lips. She parted them to say something but she couldn't remember just what it had been when Mulder covered them with his own. At some point the kisses had become more fevered and passionate, Mulder leaning heavily on her, both reclining half on and off the couch. Apart from the clock on the mantelpiece, the only sounds were the wet kisses and heavy breathing from the pair on the couch. Scully, light-headed and tingling all over, ran one hand through Mulder's hair as he rained kisses over her neck and the other hand inadvertently pulling his sweater from his jeans. She needed access to his back, to feel his skin on hers. Mulder ran his tongue from just below Scully's ear to her cleavage, stopping now and then to kiss along the trail. She moaned beneath him, hand gripping his back and hair tighter as she arched upward, allowing him better access to her cleavage. With eyelids half closed, Scully watched Mulder's fingers unbutton her blouse as he continued to ravage her neck with his lips. "Dana..." Her name whispered into her ear. But the whisper was more like a bell ringing in her mind. Was this what she wanted? Yes, she wanted Mulder. Needed him to want her. It felt so good but... not right. This Mulder was not the one. Not HER Mulder. But her Mulder didn't exist, did he? Scully felt his hand gliding along her calf to her thigh, travelling up her skirt. She gripped his hand, pushing it away in one motion and scrambled to a sitting position, clutching at her unbuttoned blouse. "Wha..?" Mulder sat upright beside her and reached for her shoulder. Scully jerked away to stand on the opposite side of the coffee table. "I'm sorry." She couldn't think of anything else to say. "I thought..." Mulder ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his breathing again. "I know and I'm sorry." Her voice was barely audible. Scully needed to make him understand and held his gaze as she re-buttoned her blouse. "Mulder, I DID want this..." "But?" He watched a solitary tear trickle down her cheek. "But I think it was because you remind me so much of someone." "You say that in present tense. You said there was no one." "I know. I didn't think so. I'm not sure any more." "You're not making much sense." "You don't know the half of it." "And you love this guy? This guy that I remind you of?" "I think so, yes. Yes, I do." "So where is he?" "He didn't need me and I left." "And he let you?" Another tear traced along the same path down her cheek. "It's complicated." "He sounds like a complete idiot. How can you love someone who just lets you go? Dana, if he loved you in return, he should've gone after you." "I told you, it's complicated." "I wouldn't let you go." With those words he rose, retrieved his jacket from the arm of the couch and stepped beside her. "That was a very nice thing to say." Scully straightened her blouse. "'Nice'." Mulder sighed. "That word again. Dana, I mean it." He cupped her face again. "If you can't uncomplicate things with this guy, I'll be here." He leaned down to brush his lips lightly against hers and left. Scully waited until she heard the engine of Mulder's car roar to life. She watched the beam of the headlights shine through her window and turn outward toward the road. The silence of the room enveloped her and she suddenly felt very alone in the world. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to hear Mulder's voice. The Mulder that she knew in the world that she thought had existed. She swiped at her face and marched to the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator door. The freezer compartment contained no ice cream. Shit. She needed something sweet to drown her sorrows in. Scully grabbed her coat and keys and headed out the door. The 7-eleven wasn't far and she needed air; needed to feel the cool breeze hit her cheeks and help her to snap out of her thoughts. She decided to walk. There weren't many cars passing along the street. It was after midnight and a weekday so it seemed silly to wait at the lights to cross the street to the 7-eleven. When she was halfway to the other side a van careened around the corner and did not see Scully in time to brake. Scully realised the path of the van only seconds before it hit her. XXXXXXXXXX George Washington Memorial Hospital Wednesday 2.14pm "Agent Scully? Good to have you back with us." Scully squinted into the bright light. A figure loomed above her. The world suddenly came into focus and a middle-aged man in doctor's whites stood beside her, penlight in hand. "Where...?" She began, trying to sit upright. A jolt of pain tore through her side and she winced, laying back down, panting. "Easy there. You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything?" The doctor again. Scully's eyes roamed the room. It was a hospital room. Another figure stood by the door. Mulder? She squinted to adjust her eyesight again. No, it wasn't him. A.D. Skinner. Was she back? "I... think a van. I didn't see it." "Well," the doctor continued, "the bad news is you have two broken ribs, a concussion and minor bruising on your left side. The good news is that you were very lucky. I'd be more careful crossing the street next time if I were you. If you need anything for the pain, just let the nurses know. I'll come back later this afternoon to check on you." The door clicked shut behind him. Skinner folded his arms and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He didn't move toward the bed Scully occupied. "What were you thinking?" "I wasn't. I'm sorry you had to concern yourself with this." Scully scanned the room again. "Sir, my sister...?" "Your sister?" Skinner raised his eyebrows above his glasses. "Yes. Has she been here?" "Agent Scully," Skinner unfolded his arms and stepped to the foot of the bed, hands gripping the railing. "You want me to get the doctor?" "So..." Scully felt her breath hitch. "She IS dead here?" "'Here'? I think you might be experiencing a set back. I'll see if I can get the doctor back in." Skinner moved to open the door. "No." Scully sighed. "No... Then it was all... a... dream..." She wiped the tear from the corner of her eye. "It was so vivid..." Skinner shifted slightly, not sure whether he should fetch the doctor anyway. "You've been in and out for a couple of days." He managed. "A couple of days... God, it was so vivid... so real..." Skinner stared, puzzled. What the hell was she talking about? Perhaps the concussion had some delayed reactions. He watched as her eyes flickered around the hospital room searching. "He was here." He offered. Scully turned her attention to Skinner again. "Oh." She shrugged, not trusting herself to comment further. "He's been here since we got the call. I sent him home about two hours ago to clean up and get some rest. I'm sure he won't take my advice and be back soon. You know, when you left my office on Friday night I went to see Mulder. He wouldn't tell me the reason for your decision either. He said it was your decision to make." Scully tilted her head to the window, nothing further to add. "I haven't processed your resignation. It's still sitting in my drawer." Scully's head whipped back toward Skinner, still silent. "I thought... "Skinner continued, "that I would give you time to discuss this with Mulder." As if this was his cue to enter, the door swung open and Mulder stepped inside casually dressed in jeans, t- shirt and leather jacket. He almost bumped into Skinner before quickly stepping aside and focused on the hospital bed. Scully's eyes were open and staring back at him. Relief flooded over him mixed with a few other emotions he couldn't quite get a hold of at that moment. "I've got to get back to the office." Skinner looked from one agent to the other. He turned his full attention to Scully. "I'm glad you're okay and we'll talk about this matter at another time. You've heard my advice and I hope you'll take it." Skinner nodded to Mulder and left them still staring at each other. "You gonna make it a habit of jumping in front of moving vehicles?" Mulder stepped toward the right side of the bed. No smile and no emotion displayed on his face. "That's not what happened." Scully looked away toward the window then tried to ease herself into an upright position. Pain shot through her side and she hissed through clenched teeth. Mulder's hands shot out to press her back onto the bed. She brushed them away and attacked the pillows behind her, trying not to show the throbbing in her side. Mulder sighed and continued to assist with propping the pillows behind her, ignoring the looks of disapproval from Scully. After settling somewhat, Scully rubbed her left side and stared at the window again, avoiding Mulder's eyes. "You want me to have the nurses give you something for the pain?" He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. She was still looking away. "I'm fine, thank you. You don't have to concern yourself." "Jesus, Scully!" Mulder ran a hand through his hair. "What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" "Nothing. I haven't asked for anything." She focused on the plastic nametag on her wrist. "Yeah, you never do. I think that's one of our problems." Scully finally raised her eyes to his. "I think you'd better leave." Scully continued to rub her side. She noted the pained look in his eyes, a tinge of regret seeping through her fa=E7ade. Mulder shifted slightly on the bed, hesitating to leave. "No." He said quietly. "I'm not leaving. Scully, when I received that phone call telling me you had been hit I thought... I imagined that the Consortium, or Syndicate, or whatever you want to call them, had gotten to you. I... I thought they'd taken you from me again." Mulder's breathing became raspy. Scully watched as he wiped a hand over his face. Tears were forming in his eyes, the lower lip quivering. "Scully..." Mulder's face crumpled before her and he reached out to touch her face. She allowed it. "I..." Mulder continued, barely discernable through the sobs that had begun. "Scully, I can't... go through that again! I've tried... to push you away because... if they knew... I didn't want them to... hurt you. I thought... I thought... " He buried his face in her shoulder. Scully's own tears began to flow. She held him as tight against her as the pain would allow. "I can't lose you, Scully!" His voice was muffled against her neck. "I can't!" "Shhh." Scully crooned to him, hands through his hair. "Shhh. You haven't lost me. I'm here." Mulder leaned back his face inches away from hers, cheeks flushed and wet. Scully wiped his tears with the thumbs of her hands cupped around his face. "Don't ever leave me Scully, please." "I don't think I could." "I thought that... " "Shhh." "Scully?" "It's okay, Mulder." "I can't exist without you." Scully's eyes widened, a tear cascaded down one cheek. Exist? "Mulder..." "I can't Scully. I love you too much to let you go." "Mul..." She could not finish her sentence. He covered her lips with his. Perhaps they needed each other to exist within any world. XXXXXXXXXX