6:45 pm

An empty apartment. That's all he'd ever known. It's not as if he wasn't used to it…

"Mulder, you really ought to buy better food than this. You'll clog you arteries." Her voice appeared before her body, but something told him she was still in her suit, in spite of her casual tone. "And you have to listen to me because I'm your doctor," she was saying.

"Well, at least I can taste it," came his reply on a high of unexpected excitement by her presence. Mulder forwent the urge to lecture her on breaking and entering. It didn't help his argument that he had given her the key she presumably used to break and enter. The truth was, he found it oddly thrilling to find someone other than Krycek waiting for him. Thrilling but an occurrence he longed to become commonplace. Scully suddenly smiled, seemingly oblivious to his gaze or wandering thoughts.

"We should get started…" she suggested and walked to the couch.

"I just walked in the door," he protested half-heartedly.

"Come on, Mulder, or we'll be here all night." Somehow she jumped from playful to dejected in a matter of seconds. Something Mulder silently wished he wasn't capable of doing to her, despite his opposite effect in times of hardship. This was no such time, he knew.

"Well, I will be here anyway," he pointed out. She ignored him and began to unpack her files. "Would you like a water or something else?" he offered in a flat tone. No sense in pressing her, he figured. Just keep things neutral.

A few hours passed and they remained, for the most part, silent. It was unlike their partnership to become awkward or uncomfortable and it made Mulder fidget.

He took a breath ready to speak. Contrary to popular Mulder-fashion, his statement was void of satire or irony, but instead sincerity.

"I know it will take time, Scully, but we will get through this." The 'we' most resembling their partnership, not their friendship, for that was cast in stone and at that point utterly impossible to shatter.

Scully sat up. Her firm and stoic form belied the rage she felt within. A rage feeding off of her fear and uncertainty, but checked by her irrevocably logical spirit. Scully prided herself on her composure, rather than depended on it, despite the need to in this male-dominated field. No one could ever say that Dana Scully was weak.

"Mulder, nothing has changed. We don't have to get over anything." And there she went, guard completely intact and fortified, a skill she'd learned to master over the years in this division, and denied Mulder's concern outright.

Mulder expected this reaction. He'd convinced himself that it came with the territory, but he consistently challenged her stubbornness. He knew that if it was important enough to her to initially fight, it was worth his undivided attention.

Scully had a love-hate relationship with this side of Mulder. His persistence was praiseworthy in the field and almost always appreciated, but it only served to infuriate her at a personal level. He had no right, she silently screamed, though she knew it was unfair; Mulder was her closest friend (only friend if she was being honest) and she couldn't hide from him forever. It irritated her to no end that she depended on him so much sometimes. He seemed to find satisfaction in it. Again, that was unfair, Mulder wasn't like that.

Scully was surprised to find Mulder walked away from the subject as easily as he walked away from their comfortable seating behind the piles of papers. A refill, her intuition told her. "Another?" his voice confirmed. She nodded, but followed him to the kitchen to retrieve a beer instead. Irrationally believing he'd completely dropped the issue, she thought. She stood paralyzed when he turned to her in question.

"Scully?" he wondered.

She shrugged, "It's Friday. We can take a break."

"You were so intent on spending as little time as human possible when you arrived."

"So? I get bored just as easily as you. I've lost my focus." Mulder seemed to accept her answer, and pulled out an identical beer for himself.

"In that case…" he conceded.

They returned to the couch and unspoken thoughts. Mulder popped the lid for her and himself and slouched into the cushions.

"Mulder, things don't have to be different," she amended as she found a position that faced him sufficiently to read his reaction, but at the same time would hide her own. He wouldn't have it, adjusting himself similarly.

"Different isn't what I'm worried about, Scully. Distant, however, is what I'm afraid we'll become."

Her eyebrow jumped slightly, "Why do you think that?"

"Because I know you won't tell me if you're sick or tired, even though I can see it in every chase we give or every argument we have."

"I feel fine, Mulder."

He shook his head, "I don't care what you say, I know what I see. Scully, you can deny it all you want, but I can't let you do this to yourself. You know your strength can't last, and when you—"

Scully dropped her head in contemplation for a moment before she replied, "Mulder, I am fine," she paused, suddenly pushing off to her feet. They were too close. "How dare you…" it was almost a whisper, but she managed to scrape a voice back together to get out, "I don't need you to tell me when—" she stopped. Hovering over him with an angry glare, she sighed and readied herself to leave. She didn't have to take this. Not from him, of all people.

"Scully," was all he said as he stood behind her. Her back was to him, but he could tell she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose because that's what she always did when her resolve was slipping.

"Mulder, I just want to do my job and I can't do that if my partner second-guesses every move I make."

"I think you know I'd never undermine your ability to do your job…if you were completely capable of doing it."

"What are you saying, Mulder?" she stabbed accusingly.

"I'm saying, that every once and a while you can lean on someone and take a rest; admit your defeat. Goddamn, Scully," he sighed, slumping back down to the couch below.

Scully promised herself she would never let him see her cry again, and she was determined to stay true to her word. She brushed a rebellious tear from the swell of her cheek.

"I think your partner is entitled to know a few of your weaknesses…to see them." He reached for the hand that rested on her hip, pulling her towards him, and forced her to face him. The tears she'd pledged to secure had fallen, carrying every last defense she'd held against him.

Her body was light and easily came to fit between his open legs. It broke his heart to watch her, but he saw it as a necessity. It meant he'd gotten through to her. The victory wasn't celebratory, however, he'd take it.

Mulder took her hands within his own, and tugged her body to him, grasping her torso in a tight embrace. With his ear pressed to her chest, he heard her heartbeat, strong and deceivably healthy.

Scully wove her fingers in his hair, and silently pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She knew he had been right. She underestimated his level of commitment once again.

"Mulder," she started and pulled him away slightly to look him in the eye. "I…you have to know I want to beat this." He nodded. "And I can't do it without you."

Mulder pulled back even more, ready to match her height, but she stopped him. Somehow, she felt more in control of the situation while he sat, as if she could walk away with a head start at any moment. But what he did next disbanded the doubt in her mind that he couldn't be trusted, or any intention to leave, when he smiled.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. She dropped to him, instead, and found his arms willingly accepting her. And the tears came and fell without concern.

"Thank you," she whispered, unable to voice her true thoughts. They were of worry and grief, something she wasn't as ready to share with him, as she knew he would have hoped.

"Scully, we will get through this."

Every bone in her body cried out in protest, that she couldn't accept defeat, because if she did she was no longer in control. Not of her body and health, or her future. Scully knew her surrender broke her guard, and that terrified her almost more than dying. Mulder knew every part of her at that moment, knew her fears, her doubts, and knew she didn't know what to do. But with his words came the realization that it was not defeat she would be claiming if she believed him, but inversely the will to persevere. And she admired him for his strength and loved him for his persistence.

- 3 -