Summary: Post-Unruhe vignette. After the events of the episode Mulder just has to see Scully again, not realizing that she's onto him.

Spoilers: Unruhe

Author's Notes: I'm watching the show on DVD again from the beginning, and it occurred to me that after Scully brushed him off in Schnauz's trailer, Mulder wouldn't let it go at that. The title should mean "resting" in German if the online translator gave me the right word.

Ruhend
Rated PG
By Suzanne L. Feld

"We must venture into their minds. Only in doing so, do we risk letting them venture into ours?"

She typed the last sentence, saved the document, then sat back in the chair and heaved a sigh, removing her glasses and setting them on the case file beside her computer. With both hands she scrubbed at her face, taking a moment to wipe her tired, wet eyes.

It had been one hell of a case, not the worst she'd experienced since joining the X-Files but certainly up there with the best—or was it worst?—of them. Coming this close to getting a botched lobotomy that might have killed her wasn't among the most pleasant experiences, but then again it was better than being raped and having her hair and fingernails cut off by a half-assed necrophiliac. If those were her only choices, of course.

Good thing I love my work, she thought as she got up, turning off the monitor but leaving the computer on and glasses on the desk. If I didn't know we were making a difference and saving people's lives I certainly wouldn't put up with these dangers and stay with the Bureau. Of course anytime I wanted to I could transfer back to Quantico and teach—

Yeah, right, the other side of her mind piped up. You couldn't leave Mulder if someone put a gun to your head! In fact—

Shut up! Scully thought fiercely, heading to the kitchen. Ignoring her odd co-dependant relationship with her partner was her preferred way to deal with it these days. Instead she concentrated on making a cup of tea, filling the old kettle that had been her grandmother's and setting out her mug and tea bag. Though she sometimes used the microwave when in a hurry, she preferred the slower, old-fashioned way.

But before the water had even begun to boil, the half-expected knock came from her front door. Scully had suspected that Mulder might come to see her tonight and she was curious as to what excuse he'd use. She peered through the spy hole and sure enough, there stood her partner in jeans and a grey t-shirt with a button-down denim shirt open over it.

"Hey there," she said in a carefully neutral tone as she opened the door and ushered him in. "Something wrong?"

"No, no, I was just wondering, uh, if you were hungry," he half-stuttered, walking in and then standing awkwardly just inside the living room with hands in his front jeans pockets, the tails of his denim shirt thrown back, as she closed and re-locked the door.

"Taking a poll?" she couldn't resist teasing, facing him with arms crossed beneath her breasts. They both knew exactly why he was here, even if neither of them would admit it, and she couldn't resist needling him just a little. She was tempted to point out that he could have called instead of coming twenty minutes across town, but she didn't want to really embarrass him.

He relaxed, chuckling. "I meant, I was going to get something to eat, you know, dinner, and wondered if you'd like to join me."

"Sorry, I ate earlier," she said, pointing at the single dish and fork in the drying rack on the sink. "Isn't it a little late for dinner anyway?"

Just then the kettle began to whistle and he turned to look in the kitchen, seeing her mug on the counter. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Scully, it looks like you—"

"If you were bothering me I'd have told you already, Mulder," she replied tartly, heading for the kitchen. "I've got food here if you're hungry."

"Oh, no, I don't want to put you to any bother, besides, I'm not like starving or anything. I'll just go, then." He belied his words by followed her into the other room.

"Want a cup of tea? I just finished up my case report and was going to watch the news before going to bed," she said, reaching up into the cupboard for another mug. "You're welcome to stay a while, since you're already here and all."

"Well, sure, if it's no bother," he said, leaning a hip against the counter behind her. "Isn't it a little early for bed on a Friday night? It's barely ten o'clock."

"I'm tired," she said briefly. "Been a long day."

He winced. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't worry about it, Mulder." She poured boiling water into both mugs, making sure the teabags didn't fall down inside. "You don't have to treat me with kid gloves just because we had a problem with this case."

"Problem?" he parroted as she handed him a plain white mug. "You almost got lobotomized, Scully, that's more than just a problem."

That was what she'd figured; he was here because of her close call. "But I didn't," she said calmly, leading the way into the living room. "You saved me, just like I saved you from Modell."'

He winced again as they sat down on opposite ends of the couch, the muscle in his lean jaw flexing. "God, don't remind me of that," he said tightly. "I still have nightmares about pointing that gun at you."

"And I still have nightmares about you getting shot during the Boggs case. Quid pro quo," she said, curling her legs beneath her. "We're partners, Mulder. Saving each other is what we do."

He sighed, setting his mug on the coffee table. "Yeah, I know. But I feel like shit that I asked you to go get the car, like you were my freaking secretary or something."

"You've gone to get the car plenty of times while I was finishing up," she pointed out. "Mulder, just because I had a close call today, don't go getting all maudlin and mother-hen-ish on me."

"Mohter-hen-ish? Is that even a word?" he grinned crookedly at her.

She smiled back, glad to have lightened the mood. "It is now."

"I'll add that to my Scully-dictionary," he said, picking up his mug and taking a careful sip. "Hey, this's pretty good. What is it?"

"Tazo Refresh, which is herbal mint," she said, taking a taste of her own. "I don't have any caffeine before I go to bed."

"Doesn't matter to me—I don't sleep worth shit anymore," he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it, Scully. Will we ever find out what really happened to Samantha? Everything we do, everything we go through, are we really making a difference?"

She shook her head at the irony of hearing her thoughts thrown right back at her. "I was thinking almost that exact thing earlier tonight, Mulder. Thinking that it was a good thing I love my job, and knowing that we really are making a difference makes it all worthwhile." There was no way she'd ever admit to him the other thoughts she'd been having. The ones about him that she didn't dare let herself dwell on.

He heaved a sigh, looking towards the fireplace. She couldn't help but reflect on what a handsome man he was, sprawled long and lean on her couch, denim sleeves rolled to his elbows, the snug grey t-shirt beneath the denim one showing his flat belly and abs, long legs spread beneath the coffee table, a lock of tousled brown hair hanging over his forehead. Were they not law enforcement partners she knew she wouldn't hesitate a moment to get involved with him… but for one thing, she knew him far too well now to risk that. Still, it was nice to have the eye candy day after day, although sometimes it did wear on her having him around so much. Today, luckily, had not been one of these days nor was this evening. She fully understood his need to see her after the day's events; she often felt the same way after he'd dodged death or severe injury by a thin margin.

"How about the news?" she said, picking up the remote and flicking on the TV, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts were taking. "Let's see what politician has been caught in an affair, embezzling, or taking bribes."

"Yeah, Clinton's made extramarital affaires de coeur practically required among politicians these days," he agreed easily. "Any excuse to do the wrong thing."

They fell silent as the TV began to babble, sitting in a comfortable silence as the newscasters passed along the day's bad news. By the time it ended their mugs were empty and Scully was yawning quite noticeably. "I'd better let you get to bed before I wear out my welcome," Mulder said, sitting up and reaching for their mugs.

"I'll get that, don't—"

"C'mon, let me," he said, swatting her hand away. "I was taught to be a good guest, even if I don't use it much anymore."

She trailed him into the kitchen, standing nearby as he set the mugs in the sink and tossed the teabags into the trash, then turned back to her. "You know, Scully, if you ever decide that the cost has gotten too high… I wouldn't think any less of you for quitting."

"Quitting?" Her eyes and voice were sheer ice.

"Or transferring," he added hastily, clearly realizing what he'd implied. "Getting away from the X-files." And me, they both knew he meant though the words remained unspoken.

She raised one finely tapered brow, hands on hips. "Mulder, haven't you figured out by now that I have just as much of a stake in the X-Files, in finding out the truth, as you do? I'm not going anywhere."

He heaved a sigh, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his broad chest, mimicking her pose from earlier. "I know… but after incidents like today… as much as I'd miss you, Scully, I do kind of wish you'd take yourself out of danger. After all you've been through already…" Because of me, the unspoken words hung in the air.

Though her first reaction was anger, she knew he wasn't like the old boys she dealt with every day. Mulder wasn't concerned just because she was a woman, he was concerned about her as a person and she knew it. Much of what he was expressing was guilt, and she had to alleviate that. Her eyes softened. "I get what you mean, Mulder, but it isn't going to happen. When I left Quantico I was bound and determined to be a field agent, even if most of the higher-ups didn't take me seriously. Although I didn't know exactly what I was getting into when I was assigned to work with you, I knew it wasn't going to be easy, routine, or ordinary." The last sentence was accompanied by a lopsided grin. "And that is exactly what I wanted. And still want."

Mulder chuckled, shaking his head, and moved away from the counter, heading for the door. "All right, all right, I give up. I've had my say even if it was futile. I'll let you get your beauty sleep, it's getting late."

Suddenly she didn't want him to leave, didn't want to be alone, but almost concurrently with that thought she banished it. She walked to the door with him, but he paused with his hand on the knob and turned back to her. "Scully…"

She looked up at him quizzically. "Yes, Mulder?"

He started to speak, hesitated, then looked away from her, shoulders slumping. "Never mind. I'll see you Monday."

Without thinking she reached out and caught his free hand. When he turned back she stepped into his arms, pressing her body against his only lightly, holding him with her hands flat against his back and laying her head against his shoulder, understanding that he needed the comfort of a hug after her close call today. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her in return, resting the side of his face on the crown of her head. It didn't occur to her that he might think that this was the comfort she hadn't let him give her when he'd rescued her from Schnauz, which was exactly what he assumed.

Finally she spoke, neither of them moving. "Hey Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you stopped by."

"Me too."

They moved apart at the same time, smiling at each other comfortably as they let go.

"How about lunch tomorrow?" She offered impulsively. "That is, if the meal invitation is still open. I usually go out with my mom on Saturdays, but she's out of town so I have no plans."

"That'd be great. I'm heading down to the Y for my usual pickup games in the morning, so why don't you meet me around noon and we can go from there." She nodded, then he reached for the doorknob again and this time managed to open the door. "See you tomorrow, Scully."

"Noon at the Y," she confirmed as he went out into the hallway.

He stopped just a few feet away, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, and turned back as she was about to close the door. "Scully?"

"Yeah?" she looked back at him quizzically, one brow raising.

"Thanks."

She frowned slightly, not understanding. "For what?"

"For being my friend. For being there, or here as the case may be. For letting me in tonight. You know."

Their eyes met and even in the dimness of the hallway, they saw what they needed. She gave him one last close-lipped smile and closed the door, knowing she'd sleep without nightmares tonight as she listened to him stride away into the night.

finis