Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files, Scully, Mulder, or even a Lariat bumper sticker. Thank you for reading.

/stop/ scully

/

His eyes have that hint of confusion around the edges, accentuated by his heavy low brow. His question echoes in my ear. Are you all right?

He does not mean in general. He means today, this hour. He is so good to remember that I am still alive.

Don't bury me yet.

I shrug across the desk and try to explain. "Not today, Mulder. Sometimes… sometimes I'm so busy living that I forget I'm dying. It sneaks up on me. And other times, I'm so aware of dying that it's hard to remember I'm still alive."

He nods and leans on the desk, intent. "And today?"

Today is more complex than the juxtaposition I've just given him, though it was true. "Today I'm so tired from living that I would like to slow down and live a little slower. I need to catch my breath, Mulder."

Strategy. I know that I cannot go on indefinitely, and that pushing too hard will only hasten the end. I want to enjoy the time, not just fill it.

"What can I do, Scully?" His voice is an earnest whisper. "I care about you. What do you want?"

My answer is un-meditated, and I have said it before. "I want to stop, Mulder. I want to stop."

He knows I do not mean stop fighting, stop working, or stop searching for the truth. I just want to stop running. Just for today.

"All right."

He stands and comes around the desk, offering me his hand. "Today we stop, Scully." He pulls me to my feet. "Today we stop and drink coffee and watch the Weather Channel. Then we'll stop and feed the ducks at the pond. After that we'll stop at the animal shelter and walk a dog. We can stop for ice cream. We can stop and watch whatever movie you pick at Blockbusters. Today we stop."

My heart is so full it falsely promises to never stop.