She opens the door and her arm falls to her side. The defeat she carries in is overbearing, like an elephant entering the room. It sits on top of him and squeezes out his breath and his question. "What's wrong?"
"Salt Lake City, Utah. Transfer effective immediately." She watches him turn away. His shoulders sink, his faithful hope fighting both his and her hopelessness. She knows what he's thinking. She can't believe it either. "I already gave Skinner my letter of resignation."
"You can't quit now, Scully." He looks at her. He looks at her like he always looks at her, lighting fires in the pit of her stomach, and she can do nothing but wait until the flames die out. His eyes are filled with determination, one of his most outstanding qualities. His refusal to give up, his devotion to his purpose had not left her unaffected in the five years they'd been working together. But when she gets close, her rationality throws water and logic on the fires he leaves.
"I can, Mulder. I debated whether or not even to tell you in person, but…"
"We are close to something here! We're on the verge!" His heated, anxious interruption cuts off what neither one of them want to hear. Of course she had to tell him in person. She had to say goodbye. They meant too much to each other to dismiss five years on the phone. She swallows.
"You're on the verge, Mulder. Please don't do this to me." He flinches. Had she not known him so well, she might not have noticed. But she saw it. He knew she did. He didn't want to bring her unnecessary pain. He knew this was already hard enough. And he knew it was probably futile to argue with her. Her face told him her mind was made up, that he couldn't convince her, that he would only make things worse if he continued.
"After what you saw last night, after all you've seen, you can just walk away?" He says as he walks towards her. She closes her eyes, blinking, but keeping them closed longer than usual. She wants to stay. But she knows she can't.
"I have. I did. It's done."
"I need you on this, Scully." His voice pleads with her. He begs. Please don't leave. I need you on this. I need you with me. I need you.
"You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've just held you back." She spits out the words, and each flies into his face. She looks away. She can't look at him. "I have to go." She walks out of the door, and she can't help but think that she's doing the same to his life.
"You want to tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience. You can, but you're wrong." He follows her into the hall and heaves this at her. Her shoulders tense and she stops. She turns to face him.
"Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder? To debunk your work, to rein you in, to shut you down…" She stops. She can't say anymore. She knew what the intentions of her superiors were when she agreed to work with him. She knows them still. But she knows that they are not how things turned out.
"But you saved me! As difficult and as frustrating as it's been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have me a thousand times over. You've kept me honest." He looks into her eyes. "You've made me a whole person." She stops breathing. "I owe you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing." She tries to stop her face from showing the shock she is overwhelmed by. He sees the tears in her eyes. He knows that the truth is painful. If he knows anything, it's that. "I don't know if I want to do this alone…I don't even know if I can…and if I quit now, they win."
Her tears spill softly, quietly. They look at each other for a minute and then she leans into him. He wraps his arms around her like he's done a thousand times before. He holds her, keeps her safe. She closes her eyes and leans on his shoulder. She pulls away from his embrace and kisses his forehead like she's done a thousand times before. She rests her forehead against his as the tears paint her cheeks the color of his confessions. Mulder pulls her face back so he can look at her, his hands settling on the back of her head. They look into each other's eyes.
She swims in his anticipation. He wades through her hesitation. She sees herself in his eyes, her wish to stay, and her obligation to go. He sees himself in her eyes, his need for the truth, and his lamentation for what it cost him. They bring out the best in each other. For a minute, they let the sameness of their want swallow them whole. They allow seconds to pass; seconds spent holding each other, holding desires.
Fearful that the moment will break, that everything they are sharing will shatter into pieces, they slowly, painfully, deliberately move together. Their faces inch together, tentative despite their certainty that this was right. Their noses finally touch and the contact explodes between them. They both want it. They're both ready.
Scully's hand flies to her neck and she jerks away. Her eyes screw shut and pain frightens peace from her face.
"I'm sorry."
"Something stung me." Mulder's hand reaches to her neck and pulls the bee from her collar. He holds it between his fingers and curses the tiny insect. "Must've gotten in your shirt."
"Mulder…something's wrong."
"What?"
"I'm having lancinating pain in –."
"What?"
"My chest."
"Scully."
"My motor functions are being affected." Her knees give out and he extends his hands to catch her. He releases her name as he lays her gently on the floor.
"My pulse feels thready…a funny taste in the back of my throat…"
"I think you're going into anaphylactic shock." Worry weaves through his voice and his face. Her eyes flutter shut and her breathing is staggered and shallow.
"No…I have no allergies."
He's panicked. His heart stops. He runs to his apartment and dials 911. "This is Special Agent Fox Mulder, I have an emergency! I have an agent down!"