I was blue, just as blue as I could be
Ev'ry day was a cloudy day for me
Then good luck came a-knocking at my door
Skies were gray but they're not gray anymore
("Blue Skies" by Irving Berlin)
Shifting his car into gear and heading home, Mulder mused on Scully's words spoken to him not five minutes ago.
Mulder, I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you.
He still had his doubts about Scully's ultimate purpose in becoming his partner. He believed she was a ploy to debunk his work, to become a tool for the nefarious work of those above, but days like this, he saw less and less that that was what she really was.
As time went on since that knock at his door, he found that she was clueless of the conspiracies that he sought to uncover, save for a few glimpses into the suspicious and the secret while on some of their cases. She was devoid of the darkness he had been witness to in the past. Since that fateful day when he was fourteen years old, a cloud of gray followed him, obscuring any glimmer of sunshine.
He wouldn't be so naive as to trust her entirely yet, but something within told him she just might be what she was assuring him she was. She just might not be a tool of the shadow men who lurked within the gray, unseen and unknown. Those who worked within the darkness that had haunted him and continued to haunt him.
Maybe, just maybe, that knock on his door months ago wasn't a signal for him to keep his guard up. Maybe, just maybe, it was a tear in the cloud, a streak of light breaking through, threatening to let in the sun.