Title: A Different Direction October 13 As she lay awake in her bed, praying for sleep to settle upon her like a thick, warm blanket, Dana Scully realized that it was her partner's birthday. They had just returned from Home, Pennsylvania, after sort of solving the case of the Peacock family. It was a six hour drive back to her apartment, and her partner had just dropped her off in front of her apartment, helped her in with her luggage, and then the two had said good night. And now, almost an hour later, she had realized she'd forgotten his birthday. It was very unsettling to think about. What kind of person forgets birthdays? When she was growing up, birthdays were always a big deal. Birthdays meant a party, with a special dinner and cake and lots of presents. And since family birthdays were always circled on the calendar, one could never forget their dates. Now, she didn't circle the dates of people's birthdays...even those of her mother and brothers. But she always remembered them anyway...didn't she? Panicked, she got up out of bed and retrieved her appointment book from the kitchen table. She switched on the light, and began flipping through the pages. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw what was written next to the date of her mom's birthday: Dinner with Mom, 8 p.m. So, she hadn't forgotten! As she continued, she smiled as she came across various written reminders in the margins of her book: Remember Bill's birthday present!; Get anniversary card; Buy stuffed animals for the children. Her breathing relaxed somewhat with every turn of the page. She hadn't completely abandoned her traditional upbringing. Her career choice may have been anything but traditional, but it was nice to know she kept her values. When she thought of what she could've been... Scully let her mind wander for a second, and imagined her life, had she gone the traditional route. She would most definitely be married...perhaps have a couple of children...maybe a dog...living in a cozy house in the suburbs. She would have a private practice...perhaps be working for a small suburban group of doctors..seeing patients that were probably her neighbors. Then, when she got home, she would cook dinner...do the dishes...help her kids with their homework...give them baths...read them stories...and put them to bed. She'd be an active member of the PTA...go to church every Sunday...participate in carpools with other mothers...and they'd complain about the taxes, and how their children wouldn't eat any of their cooking-- Abruptly, Scully stopped. She'd wondered about this stuff before, but never had she carried it that far in her mind. Usually, she'd start laughing, or the image would disgust her, or she'd remember some work she had to do. But not this time. She thought again about the baby they had exhumed. A poor, innocent creature that had had their one chance at life ripped away because of some sick experiment by a heartless family. If you could even call them that. It had almost moved her to tears. Then why did the small room where she had examined the dead child feel so cramped, so cold to her? And what was all that stuff she'd blurted out to Mulder about motherhood? <"I never saw you as a mother before."> That was what he had said. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it. But, the more she thought about it, the more she realized he was right. Because the truth was, neither had she. Before she thought any more about this and drove herself crazy, she had to call Mulder. He answered on the second ring. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me." There was a slight pause. "Hey, Scully, how are you? Is everything okay." "Uh...yeah. Listen, um, Mulder...I...I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday," she said, quickly. There was a very long pause. "Oh," was all he said. "Well...thanks...Scully...to tell you the truth, it sort of slipped my mind." "Slipped your mind?" she asked, incredulously. He sighed. "Well...yeah...since we were on a case and all, I...I guess I just forgot about it." Scully fumbled frantically for words. "That's...understandable, Mulder...I mean, you're right, we were on a case." "Yeah." Another pause. "So...is that all you called about? To wish me a happy birthday?" "Yeah. Um...yeah, that's it." "Okay. So...I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" A beat. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Mulder." "Bye." "Bye." Scully pushed the off button on her phone, and gently placed it back down to recharge its battery. Her emotions were all jumbled. Why was that so awkward between them? She could usually just call him at any hour, whatever the reason. Which is when it hit her. It *wasn't* any reason. Usually, the calls were work-related. Their work was their life, and they were the only two people in it. It was like they were both overcompensating for their lack of a social life, outside work. Mulder liked to joke about it, and usually she found it funny. But the case had started her to all of this thinking... What bothered her most of all was Mulder forgetting his own birthday! How was that possible? How could one be so busy that they would forget their own birthday? Granted, she knew Mulder hadn't had the easiest childhood...perhaps birthdays were not that big a deal in the Mulder household, but...to forget your own birthday? Somehow, that idea now scared Scully more than the idea of a traditional life. October 31 She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. A smiling five year old ballerina opened the door. "Auntie Dana!" she cried. Scully smiled, and leaned down to give the girl a hug. "I'm not Auntie Dana, I'm your Fairy Godmother!" she exclaimed, indicating the long blue gown, pointed hat, and magic wand she toted. So what if the gown was her prom dress? So what if she'd bought the hat and wand on a whim while she was on her lunch break this afternoon? Scully was determined to be in the spirit for helping out her brother on Halloween. His wife had developed a nasty case of the flu, and Bill had called Scully at the last minute. They were both surprised at how quickly she agreed. Usually Scully was too busy to help out with family events. But this time, she'd made the time. "Daddy, Daddy, Auntie Dana's here!" called the little girl, padding down the hallway in her ballet slippers. A tall red-haired gentleman with slicked black hair, clad in a long black cape and fangs appeared from behind the hall entrance. "Ah, Auntie Dana," he said, in his most awful Transalvainan accent. He scooped up his daughter in his arms. "Excellent job, Maggie! You have brought me some fresh blood!" He gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek, and then pretended to try and bite her neck. "Daddy! Stop being silly!" she screamed, laughing. Bill gently lowered Maggie to the ground before going over and giving his sister a hug. "Hey, sis," he said. "Thanks a bunch for doing this, I owe you." "No problem," replied Scully, returning the hug. Puzzled, she looked around the hallway and surrounding rooms. "Where's Billy? Is he dressing up this year?" Bill nodded. "Yeah, he just doesn't think it's cool to trick-or-treat with old Dad anymore. He's real anxious to go with you, though. He says, and I quote: 'Auntie Dana is cool because she has a gun and works with dead people.'" He laughed, awkwardly. "I think he's in that *phase*." Billy was nine, and Scully knew what "phase" her brother was talking about. Although, she had to admit it was mostly from medical textbooks as opposed to seeing it in actual kids. "Well, I'm glad to help," she said, simply. "Hey-yah!" Just then Billy appeared, karate chopping everything around him. He was a karate master, complete with his black belt and the ninja tie around his head. "Hey-yah, Auntie Dana, I am the Karate Master! Don't worry, I will protect you from all evil!" His eyes rested on his five year old sister. "Back! Back, you evil, back!" he yelled, karate chopping the air, and chasing his sister all around the hallway. Maggie screamed. "Daddy! Make him stop! Daddy! Auntie Dana! Help!" She sought refuge behind Scully, clinging onto her gown tightly, trying to wrap herself in it. "Billy, that's enough," warned Bill, sternly. "What's going on in here, is everything all right?" asked a sleepy figure making her way down the stairs. She was dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, with curlers in her hair, but Scully could see this was no Halloween costume. She smiled when she saw Scully. "Hi, Dana. Thanks for filling in for me. I don't know where I came down with this thing." Scully smiled, stroking Maggie's hair as the child clung steadfastly to her gown. "No problem, I was happy to do it. Julie, you don't look well." Bill was immediately at his wife's side. "Honey, what are you doing up?" he asked her. "Did the kids wake you?" "Mommy, you're awake!" cried Maggie, and let go of Scully's gown to bound up the stairs and wrap herself around her mother's legs. Billy also immediately forgot his quest to rid the world of evil. "Hey Mom, look at me, I'm a Karate Master!" he cried, chopping the air as before. "Hey-yah! Hey-yah!" "Look at you, you all look so nice," commented Julie, now also stroking Maggie's hair. "Is Auntie Dana going to take you trick-or-treating?" "Yeah!" cried Billy and Maggie together. Bill had quieted his son, and began getting his children's things ready to go out. Scully watched them all, and found herself almost near tears. Bill was helping Billy on with his coat, and giving him his trick-or-treat bag. Julie was now adjusting Maggie's tutu, so that it looked just right, and then gave her daughter a hug. Maggie then went over to Bill, who helped her on with her jacket and gave her her trick-or-treat bag. Julie came down the stairs, and fussed with Billy's hood, then gave him a kiss on the cheek. Bill put his arm around his wife, and softly kissed her head. She leaned her head on his shoulder. They were a family. A real family, like Scully had once had. They loved and protected and supported each other. They remembered each other's birthdays. Scully shook herself out of her reverie, as she led Billy and Maggie out the door. No time to think of that now. Tonight, she was Auntie Dana, the Fairy Godmother. She had a job to do, that for once, wasn't work. November 14 Fox Mulder was confused. Even with his Oxford degree and all of his years of profiling the processes of the human mind, and he was still confused. It had been almost two weeks since the Melissa Ephesian case in Tennessee, and it was still confusing him. If Melissa was supposedly his soulmate for life, then why had she been allowed to die? And if Scully was always the one who had died in his life, then why had she lived? Was this fate trying to tell him something? It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it before. Him and Scully. Scully and him. Even been tempted a couple of times, but he had held back. Some unknown force had kept him from making a move. Perhaps it was all his past lives. Some subconscious force that had been pulling him towards Melissa Ephesian and that case in Tennessee. So then why was she dead? Scully had been acting different ever since their case in Home, Pennsylvania. More pensive, thoughtful. That case had really affected her, much moreso than it had affected him. It was the Tennessee case that had gotten to him. As he sat there in their office, leaning back in his chair, his feet on his desk, thinking, he happened to glance across the room. At her desk. Her desk and chair. Her working space. And how empty it looked because she wasn't there yet. It was while he was looking at her desk, that it hit him. It became abundantly clear. This lifetime, he obviously wasn't meant to be with Melissa. She had died. She had exchanged places, it seemed, with Scully, who had lived. He was supposed to be with Scully. It made him almost happy. In a way, he always had known, but it was this case that let him see the extent of his feelings for her. He had cried when Melissa had died. But it was nowhere near close to the anguish, pain, and loss he had felt when he thought Scully had been taken from him for good. And the overwhelming joy, relief, and happiness he felt when she was returned to him. The choice was clear. "Morning, Mulder," she greeted, walking into the room. She set her briefcase on her desk, and took off her coat. She picked up her coffee cup and noted with appreciation that Mulder had made coffee that morning. "Hey, Scully," he replied, calmly -- his inner thoughts anything but calm. She froze. Not a muscle in her body moved. She stood there, holding her cup of coffee, and not moving. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she turned to face him. "Uh...yeah, sure, Mulder, I'd like to...but I have something planned." His heart sank. "So...you can't?" he repeated, dumbly, as if not quite believing it. "I guess not," she replied, returning to her desk and opening her briefcase. Mulder sat there, not quite comprehending what had just happened. "Another time, then," he heard himself saying. She looked up from what she was writing. "Sure." There was a knock on the door, and she rose to answer it. "Uh, Agent Scully, Assistant Director Skinner needs to see you right away," said the short brown-haired intern named Holly. Scully nodded. "Okay," she said, pleasantly, as if expecting this. As she turned to walk out of the room, she looked back towards her partner. "Mulder...we need to talk." He nodded, and she disappeared through the door. Mulder sat up in his chair, mentally cursing himself for being so stupid! His too-fast-for-its-own-good brain started piecing bits of information together, and before you knew it, he had come up with a hypothesis for Scully's behavior that made perfect sense to him. Scully was seeing Skinner. It was perfectly obvious. This past month, ever since that case in Pennsylvania, she'd been distant, distracted, almost as if something else was on her mind. She was always late to work now, and seemed to be getting twice as many phone calls only for her as she used to. Added to the fact that he had seen her and Skinner having lunch together in the cafeteria the previous week, and the conclusion was obvious. Scully was trying her hand at a more normal life, complete with starting a relationship...with their boss? Mulder immediately wondered why she hadn't told him. They were as close as two people could be, it seemed like they told each other anything. Then, he thought hard about the situation: if she was dating Skinner, he could see why she wasn't telling anybody. But, there was no way for him to confirm this. It wasn't as if he could wait till they got off work, drive over to her apartment, knock on her door, and say 'so, what's up with you and Skinner'? It just wasn't his style. Then he thought of his style. An unhealthy and destructive relationship with Pheobe Green. An unhealthy and destructive fling with Kristen Kilar. A mindless flirtation with Bambi Berenbaum. A cosmically-induced flirtation with Detective Angela White. Maybe it was time to think about changing his style. November 14 Mulder was nervous. Very nervous. He felt like he was in the ninth grade and was knocking on the door of the girl he had a crush on. He'd faced aliens, mutants, sewer monsters, killer kitty cats, and much worse before. So why was he so terrified? Gathering up his courage, he knocked on her door. "Who is it?" she called. He cleared his throat, hesitating a moment. "Mulder," he answered. The door opened, and she stuck her head around it. "I just called you," she confessed. "Come on in." Nervously, Mulder stepped into her apartment. Scully had thrown on some jeans and an old sweatshirt, and pulled her hair back, while he was still in his suit from work. He felt overdressed and out of place, and he had the overwhelming urge to bolt out the door without saying anything. But when he looked at her, he remembered all the things he should've said long ago. At all the different times. And he knew he had to say them now. Or die trying. "I'll make this easy," he began, pacing a little, not daring to meet her eyes. "I know about you and Skinner." She looked surprised. "You do?" she asked, curiously. He nodded. "Yeah. So...how long have you been seeing each other?" He looked up to meet her eyes, as he'd done so many times before. Only never under these circumstances. Scully now looked confused. "Mulder, I'm not seeing Skinner," she declared. "You're not?" he asked. She shook her head. "No." Mulder felt his heart soar as he tentatively asked the next question. "So...are you seeing anyone?" Her brow furrowed, as if she was deep in thought. Her eyes met his, warm and understanding. "Perhaps we should sit down," she suggested, indicating the couch. Mulder looked at her, then at the couch, then sat down, nervously. She took the seat opposite from him, folding her hands across the back of the cushions as she looked into his face. Taking a deep breath, she began. "Skinner...has been helping me get my transcript together." His heart leaped to his throat. "Why?" he asked, deathly afraid of the answer. Scully hesitated a moment, looking down at the cushions. "I'm leaving the bureau," she said, quietly. He was stunned. For a moment, he forgot how to speak as he let the implications of her words slowly sink in. "You're...quitting?" he queried softly, almost afraid to say it out loud. "Transferring," she corrected, after a minute. This wasn't making any sense. Mulder wanted to get up and walk out of that apartment. Better yet, he wanted to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. Or quite possibly the best yet, get down on his hands and knees and beg her to stay. "Where?" he finally wondered aloud. Scully said nothing for a long time. He could almost tell that she didn't want to say. He dreaded the answer himself. So he almost didn't hear her when she murmured "Chicago." She waited another minute before trying to explain. "Mulder...when I helped out my brother on Halloween...when I took his kids trick-or-treating...I got this feeling that...*I* wanted something like that. I need a fresh start. I need to move on with my life. I can't always go on like my job is the most important thing in the world, because it isn't. There's so much more out there that I haven't experienced because of my job. The bureau in Chicago has an administrative position. Less hours, less pressure. 'Cause I'm running out of time. Plus, I don't have anything here in Washington, really..." she trailed off. Then, she looked at Mulder, and gasped. "No, Mulder, I didn't mean--" "No, I know what you mean," he finished for her. She sighed. "And after I decided...I just felt good...you know?" Scully had stopped talking. But Mulder could barely bring himself to talk either. He was in shock, complete and total shock, but he had to say something, *anything*, after all, she was his best friend. Say something supportive, encouraging. Tell her she's making the right decision. "I, I don't know what to say," he managed, finally. She smiled. "I know," she said. Then she reached over and touched his hand. "I'm going to miss you." He stared at her hand touching his, and without consciously thinking about it, closed his hand over hers. He looked up at her. "I'm going to miss you, too." And held each other's gaze for a while. November 21 Mulder had been at work since five a.m. that morning. He was pouring over cases, old case, old files, looking for something. Several phone calls and hours later, he had found what he was looking for. Now it was almost time for her to arrive at work. For her last day. Grudgingly, he busied himself with old paperwork until she got there. After fifteen minutes, however, he found it was unbearable. He had the worst ache in the back of his shoulders. "Mulder, you okay?" she asked, entering the room. Immediately, he rose from his chair. "It's fine," he said, quickly. "Don't take your coat off, we're going out." She looked puzzled. "Mulder...where are we going? I haven't gotten a memo from Skinner, so we can't have a new case. Even if we did, I'd need to do some paperwork first, and--" He ushered her out of the room. "No, it's not a new case, but it *is* case-related," he assured her, leading her to the car. "So..." he began, as he started the car, "T minus...3 hours and counting?" Scully looked at the clock. "Yeah. My flight leaves at 2, so I figure it's enough time." He nodded. "So...your apartment is...empty?" "Yeah, my stuff's in storage until I pick it up after work." She sighed, and stared out the window, not really wanting to discuss it. Mulder let the silence remain for about a minute. "I think it's great your mom is taking over your lease. You have a really...nice apartment, it would be a shame to let it go." She shifted in her seat. "Yeah...I think it'll be nice for my mom. The house hasn't been the same for her since my dad died." She paused. "And I'll never forget her address," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Where, where are you staying once you get there?" he asked, as they turned off of an exit. "Uh...I have a friend who went to med. school with me, who has a place in the city. I looked around at some apartments when we were there a couple weeks ago. I have some numbers, some people I can call." His muscle pains seemed to increase with every word she said, but all he did was nod, and act interested. "Mulder, where are we going?" she asked. "We must be in Maryland by now!" She looked around at the scenery that passed her as they drove in the car. He didn't answer her, as they continued to drive, finally stopping in front of a house on a quiet suburban street. "Stakeout," he said simply, looking at her. "Baltimore PD is hot on the trail of some serial killer, couldn't spare anybody. I owed a guy there a favor and...well...here we are." She raised an eyebrow. "I have to be back to the city by at least one o'clock, Mulder. How long are we planning on staying here?" It was his turn to look uncomfortable. "An hour," he murmured. "*An hour*?!" cried Scully, exasperatedly. "Mulder, I have paperwork to do, things to finish before I leave--" She stopped suddenly, and looked directly at him. "I think I know what this is about," she said, quietly. "I feel the same way, Mulder." He wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "You do?" he asked, leaning toward her. She nodded. "I think we've both been spoiled by what we have so much that we're afraid of the next step." "I agree," Mulder said, his heart surging with emotion. Scully leaned back in her seat. "I mean, I've never had a job where I've had to work with somebody this closely. I've gotten so used to it, I'm afraid I won't remember how to work alone when I get to Chicago." His face fell. "Job...right," he said, clearing his throat. "Listen, Scully, we don't have to stay here. We can go back to the bureau so you can get your paperwork done." He started the car again, and started to pull away from the curb. "Mulder," she said, looking at him concernedly, "is there something else?" He shook his head, ignoring the immense pain in the back of his shoulders. "No, no nothing else. I mean, you obviously need lots of practice on paperwork, right, because they have so much of that in *Chicago*." He leaned back in his seat, and said nothing the entire way back to the city. When they arrived, as they were about to exit the car, Scully put her hand on his shoulder. "I guess I've proved I'm no good at good-byes," she admitted. He looked at her, nodding understandingly. "Neither am I," he said. "I'm sorry about what I said before. I didn't mean to, uh, snap at you." "I just don't want to leave," she said, "unless I know we'll always be friends." Mulder nodded. "We will," he assured her. Satisfied with that explanation, she rubbed his shoulder a bit, and then got out of the car. After a particularly long surge of the same incessant shoulder pain, he followed her. November 21 Mulder tried to concentrate on the work in front of him, but his eyes kept wandering to the clock. Why, on this day of all days, did Scully have to get called up to the VCS to do a shooting demonstration for their new recruits? There was a knock on the door. "Come in," he muttered, grumpily. Standing in the doorway was the cowering figure of Agent Pendrell. "Agent Mulder. Is...uh...Agent Scully here? I found something I have to show her." "Agent Scully isn't here right now," said Mulder, rising from his chair. "You can show it to me instead." But Pendrell hesitated. "I...wanted to show Agent Scully," he persisted. "Well, you can't see her right now," replied Mulder, his patience thinning. "And since she and I work together, I'm sure whatever you have to show her, you can show me as well." He grabbed his suit jacket and went to stand over by the lab technician. Pendrell, however, wasn't convinced. "*Why*?" he asked, annoyedly. "Why can't I talk to Agent Scully?" "Because Agent Scully is leaving us, Pendrell!" Mulder exploded. "She's not going to work here anymore! Now whatever you have to show her, you can show me because since she's gone, I have *nothing to do* right now!" He stalked off down the hall in the direction of the lab, with Pendrell following bewilderedly. November 21 Scully took one last look at her office. Where was Mulder? He had mysteriously disappeared. Placing the last of her stuff in a box, she grabbed her coat and briefcase, and after a moment, silently closed the door. She walked up the flights of stairs to Skinner's office. She stopped in his secretary's office, putting down her box and coat. "Twelve o'clock, out the door," she commented, removing her badge and her ID and placing them on the secretary's desk. "Okay, thanks, Agent Scully. Have fun in...uh...Chicago," replied the secretary, phone to her ear, before continuing her conversation. "Yes, this is Assistant Director Skinner's office...well you've put me on hold for the past ten minutes...Assistant Director Skinner needs to talk to your supervisor...it's a matter of some urgency..." Shaking her head, Scully picked up her box and her briefcase, shouldering her coat, and started to walk back down the stairs. "If you'll notice both the two distinct marks on her lower back and the fact that the victim reports to be missing time are consistent with symptoms of alien abduction..." Scully stopped, abruptly, and turned in the direction of the familiar voice. In the empty room adjacent to Skinner's office, was Mulder and his slide projector. "The scientific explanations that have been offered attribute these marks to needle punctures or an animal bite, but these explanations consistently ignore the realms of extreme possibilities--" Scully watched a little more of the presentation through the glass, flooded with memories. When she knew if she watched any more, she would lose her will to leave, she turned and walked back down the stairs, and out the main entrance of the building. November 21 When Mulder returned from his presentation, she was gone. He didn't know why he was surprised. She said she was leaving at noon, and she did. But he didn't even get a chance to say good-bye. Not a note, not anything. "Agent Mulder?" Holly stuck her head through the door. Mulder blinked, and turned to face the intern. "Yeah?" She smiled, timidly. "Uh...one of the recruits wants to talk to you about your experience profiling for the VCS." She cleared her throat, and patted her chest. "But...he's kind of shy, so Assistant Director Skinner has asked you to just give him the basics." "Right." Mulder followed her out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He and Holly climbed the stairs to Skinner's office. Mulder was really not in the mood to do another presentation. He was tired and drained, and his shoulders were hurting him more than ever. "Peter Hupert...this is Fox Mulder. Special Agent for the FBI, and former criminal profiler for the VCS," said Skinner. Hupert stepped forward, nervously. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Mulder." He extended his hand. Mulder took it, shaking it heartily. Hupert nodded. "Uh...yes...very much, sir." "Are you sure you want to do that, Hupert? Because, it's not a career path for everybody. You can't just *study* the criminal mind, you have to actually *be* the criminal mind. You can't just *think* like a criminal, you have to *be* a criminal. You and this person must be one and the same, so that you could know exactly how you would sneak into a house, and strangle a young girl, and then throw her dead body into the trunk of your car and drive out to some deserted location where you would know exactly what kind of knife to use to cut her head and arms off, before sewing them back onto her stomach with fine thread, and then dig just the right size ditch so that she'd be sufficiently buried and her body wouldn't wash up after some particularly heavy rains and float out to the street to be discovered by some unsuspecting housewife who's gone out to get the paper before she makes her husband's coffee!" Mulder was fuming by now. Hupert looked absolutely terrified. Holly looked at Skinner, questioningly. The Assistant Director said nothing except, "Holly, why don't you show Hupert out?" He turned to the young recruit. "I'll be with you in a minute, Hupert, after I have a word with Agent Mulder." Holly nodded, and escorted the younger man out of Skinner's office. The Assistant Director turned to Mulder, and shook his head. "Why don't you sit down?" he asked the agent. Mulder took a seat, feeling vaguely sorry but not really caring. The pain in his shoulders was almost unbearable now. "So, Mulder...didn't Agent Scully leave today?" Mulder shifted in his chair, and looked at the floor. "Yeah," he said, after a while. Skinner nodded. "Did you...tell her anything...important...before she left?" "No, I didn't tell her good-bye, if that's what you mean," snapped Mulder, grumpily, not really caring if he was showing disrespect for his superior. Skinner eyed the uncomfortable, antsy man in front of him. "I don't think good-bye is what you need to tell her," he speculated. Mulder looked up, as if considering what the AD had said. Then, he shook his head. "I don't know what else I could say," he admitted. "Mulder, I'm saying this as a friend. Man to man," said Skinner. He cleared his throat. "You can either tell Agent Scully what you've been wanting to tell her for years, you could tell her how you feel." He paused. "Or," he continued, "you could let her go without saying a word, regret it for the rest of your life, and make your life, your job, and your whole existence miserable. Like you have today." Mulder said nothing for a moment. "I understand," he said, calmly. "Thank you." Then, he got up and quickly exited Skinner's office. He ran down the steps out the door, and up to the parking garage where he kept his car. Breaking several speed limits, he raced out of the garage onto the crowded Washington streets, taking every possible shortcut he knew of. He checked his watch as he turned onto the Expressway. 1:18. Taking several turns, taking the route he knew by heart, he arrived at Scully's apartment building. Barely stopping the car, he dashed out and ran up the steps into the building, up the stairs to her apartment. Flinging open the door, he hurried into her empty room. "Scully! Scully, are you here?" he called, frantically searching through the room. He almost bumped into someone. "Fox, what are you doing here?" asked Mrs. Scully, surprised. Mulder ran his hand through his hair, impatiently. "Hi, Mrs. Scully, I was looking for Dana. Is she here?" Mrs. Scully shook her head. "No...but I think she left you a note." "Where?" "On the mantle," she indicated. Mulder dashed over to the mantle, picking up the folded piece of paper. He read it quickly, then shoved it in his coat pocket. Throwing back open the door, he called over his shoulder "Thank you!" He got back in his car, and sped away, towards the airport. His heart was pounding, his foot permanently on the accelerator. He just had to get there in time. The time. 1:47. Stopping at the appropriate airline, Mulder left his car running and ran into the airport, ignoring the calls of skycaps and annoyed airline officials, informing him his car was in a loading zone. Mulder stopped at the display showing the departure times for various flights. Scanning the list, he found a flight leaving Dulles for Chicago at 2. "Flight 2113...Gate 10," he affirmed, aloud, before breaking into a run in the direction of the gate. He checked his watch again. 1:58. Where was this gate, at the end of the terminal? Finally, he saw it. There was no one there. The sign said "Flight 980 to Boston", and there were only a lone attendant manning the desk. Seeing his confusion, she spoke to him. "Are you looking for flight 2113, sir?" Mulder nodded. "It got moved. Gate 11, across the way," she indicated, pointing. Mulder whipped his head around in the direction she had indicated. Scully was handing her ticket to the attendant, getting ready to board the plane. "Scully," he whispered, before running as fast as he could, needing to catch her before she boarded. "Scully!" he called, and finally, as a last resort, "Dana!" She turned around, in time to see Mulder leaning on the attendant's podium, trying to catch his breath. "Mulder, are you okay?" she asked, concernedly. She looked at the attendant, trying to buy time. After all, she was the last one to board the flight. Mulder nodded, still breathing hard. She smiled broadly. "You came to say good-bye?" she asked. He shook his head. "No. Stay. I want you to stay." Her brow furrowed, as if deep in thought. "But, Mulder..." she protested. "Scully, I love you. And I'm stupid for not saying it before." A beat. "No, no it's okay...I, I knew. In a way, I knew." The attendant sighed loudly. "Ma'am, you have to board now." "Stay," Mulder implored. "Scully, we belong together. Tell me you don't feel the same!" She seemed to consider it for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly. "Ma'am...*now*!" said the attendant, irritably. But Mulder would not be swayed. "We're right together," he insisted. Taking a deep breath, she confessed. "Mulder, you are my best friend, I don't know how I'm going to make it without you." "Don't go," he suggested. She looked at him, sadly. "I have to. I don't belong here anymore. My life is going in a different direction." Mulder's eyes filled with tears. "Scully, I don't want to lose you," he begged, forlorn. Scully took one last look at her partner, the man with whom she'd shared her life, and for once, put aside her logic. She leaned over and kissed him gently. "I'll never forget you," she murmured, turning to walk through the door. "I do love you," she said, looking back, as the attendant moved to close the door behind her. But Mulder stuck his foot in the door, trying to catch the last glimpse of her. "What?" he asked. "I love you," she reaffirmed, peering over the attendant's shoulder, trying to see him. Then she raised her hand in a half-hearted wave. "Bye." Mulder feebly returned her wave, and watched as the attendant shut the door and he lost sight of her. Sinking down in a chair before him, he sat there until the airplane rolled out onto the runway, took off into the sky...and disappeared. The End |