Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s not easy to observe Mulder here from the bench while his back is to her, but Scully decides to give him this moment to himself. She wants to watch him for a while; these days she doesn’t get to do it. She hardly gets to see him as it is.

He’s staring straight ahead, away from her, into a future neither of them can know. The distance between here and the railing, between Mulder and Scully is a mere reflection of their current professional relationship; she can pick up the phone for him, help him along, but it’s never close enough.

Scully shivers in the chilly night air, missing his warmth by her side. Her eyes are glued to his back as if afraid that once she takes her eyes off him, or even just blinks, he will be gone. So far he hasn’t run, though. She can only hope he won’t. Watching him, she can’t help but think back to what now seems a lifetime ago. Their first day out in Oregon when she was still so green and he never missed a chance to remind her of that. There had been no trust between them at first, dancing around each other, just trying to figure out what the other one was thinking. Right now, even with the x-files closed and their partnership dissolved, the thought of not trusting him, of not being beside him seems unfathomable. Mulder shifts his weight from one leg to the other and that’s her cue.

As if on autopilot, Scully gets up from the bench and joins him at the railing. There’s nothing to be seen here in this lake except for the dancing reflections on the water, she thinks, but if anyone can catch monsters and wonders in the dark nothingness, it’s Mulder. Her gloved hand reaches out to touch his arm. They need to get out of this cold, but for the moment she merely absent-mindedly strokes his arm through his coat sleeve as if that could provide him with enough warmth.

“Are you still thinking about leaving the Bureau?” Scully asks him without taking her eyes off the water. When he told her about it, a flippant, throw away comment, she didn’t want to believe it. She still doesn’t.

“I did think about it, but now…”

“But now?” She tightens her hold on his arm.  

“We can’t just give up. I mean I can’t give up and I won’t. Success in our work is imperative, Scully. Reinstatement of the X-Files must be undeniable.” He repeats the words he told her early; they sound like a mantra, now.

“We’re in this together, Mulder. I want the x-files back just as much as you do.” As if she could ever be anywhere else now, she thinks, but she is not ready to admit it to herself yet. Let alone him. Mulder smiles, his eyes directed towards something out there he’s not sharing with her. Could it have ever been different? She wonders. If they’d met differently. Maybe right here one night; she walking a tiny dog, he out for a run. They’d bump into each other, perhaps, smile and then… just silly thoughts.

That wouldn’t have been them; it never could be. But right now, Scully wants a do-over anyway. She wants to know him again, to know him differently. To salvage something just in case. In case they never get to work with each other again. She couldn’t let go of him when they closed the x-files and she followed all of his ridiculous rules just so she got to see him. He insisted on secret meetings and on every possible precaution. Scully didn’t let go then and she’s not going to let go of him now.

Fight, he told her. Fight they will. But maybe not tonight.  

“Mulder?”

“Hm?” His eyes, glazed over, still lost somewhere, find hers.

“Let’s go home.” He chuckles and the wind carries the sound away way too soon, replaces it with a heavy silence, words that get stuck, unsaid.

“Come on, Mulder,” Scully tugs at his sleeve, “You have to go home. It’s cold. And I really didn’t want to say anything, but you do need a shower.” Another chuckle and this time he moves. His shoulder bumps hers as they slowly walk away from their bench.

“I don’t really want to, you know…,” he pauses, licking his lips, “this work is my life and I… I need you on this, Scully. To get our work back.” His voice breaks at the end, his statement almost lost in the cold air surrounding them, and Scully reaches for his hand. She wishes she had taken off her glove because all she wants is to feel him now, his skin, his warmth.

“You won’t lose me, Mulder. I’m always just a phone call away.” She assures him with a smile. They’re hidden here; the streetlights not giving off enough light to catch them together in the shadows and so she leans closer to him, sharing more body heat. A justifiable action, she reasons with herself.

“Scully, we shouldn't… this is-” Mulder looks around, frantically searching for shadows that aren’t there.

“Mulder, no one cares about us. Not as long as the x-files are closed.”

“How can you say that, Scully?” He steps away from her and she feels the loss of this warmth immediately, “Or maybe you don’t really want the x-files back.”

“Of course I do. Do you think Flukemen are part of my current assignment? They’re not, Mulder. None of this is. I do want the x-files back, but most of all,” she takes a deep breath, “Most of all I want to know you’re all right. I don’t want to lose you.” It’s Scully who takes the step. She is drawn to him, like a moth to light, and he lets her. Her arms go around him, hold him close as she buries her face in his chest. He stiffens for a moment and she knows he wants to push her away. They shouldn’t be doing this out here where anyone could see them. But her need to feel him is stronger now than anything else. And finally he relaxes against her and his arms sneak around her waist, resting still on her lower back. He’s not going to let go of her either.

“Scully, I really need a shower.” He mumbles into her hair and she chuckles, because he is right. The faint smell of the sewer clings to him, but it can’t cover up his own, very specific Mulder scent completely.

“Want company?” She surprises him and herself.

“Always.” He kisses the crown of her head gently and then he lets go of her, his arms falling to his sides. There’s a question in his eyes, on his tongue, and Scully will answer it. Once they’re safe in his apartment. Where no one can see them. Where no one can stop them.

“Come on,” She tells him now, taking his hand, 

“We’re going home.”