"Hi," Fox Mulder gently greeted his partner as she woke up next to him.
His lover. Ex-lover.
Lover again. Briefly, at least.
He knew she'd regret last night. He knew he should, too.
But Fox Mulder never gave much damn for what he should or was expected to do or feel.
"You should leave," Dana Scully, his work partner and forbidden soon-to-be-ex-again lover informed him as a matter of fact. "This never should've happened."
"Don't worry, Scully," he smiled sarcastically, joylessly. He called her Scully and she called him Mulder. Even as a couple, they were never on a first name basis. Maybe less so, in fact. Their romantic relationship collided with many more obstacles than their working partnership. What brought them together while sharing a basement office didn't work so well when it came to sharing a bed and a home. Not well at all. "As far as I'm concerned, it's already forgotten."
The sad thing is, he wasn't even lying. Gone were the days when he was crying himself to sleep, missing her as much as a cripple misses his limb. Fox Mulder used to wish for a peg leg, he got a peg soul instead and it seemed like a fair deal. He didn't have the energy to care anymore.
Even about her. Especially about her. Not in that my-touchstone/my-one-in-a-five-(or-seven)-billion/the-only-one-I-trust kind of way anyway.
Nobody expects much from you when you have a peg leg, just surviving from day to day makes you a hero. Having a peg soul seemed to have the similar effect. Nobody expected much more from severely depressed middle aged ex fugitive than to make it through the day without forgetting to take his damn pills and occasionally change his underwear. Not his ex/current lover/partner, and not his boss.
Nobody else knew he existed, really.
It suited him just fine.
He got up, picked up his clothes and went to the bathroom.
Dana Scully, left alone in her, no, oh god, her mother's bed, started to miss his heat immediately. She pulled the covers over her head in shame. How could she do this? To him! To herself!
It wasn't love, it was comfort. She was hurting, grieving her mother's death, and Mulder was there for her, like he always was. As years and decades went on, he became more and more of a loner, until there was nothing and nobody left in his life to cling on, except for her. It was hard not to take him for granted. It was even harder not to lose herself in an embrace of a man who knew her body so well and who wouldn't ask questions.
Mulder offered to help her when she finally forced herself to go through her mother's stuff. Of course he did. He followed her around like a puppy and she loved it and hated it at the same time.
It was she who left. She believed she was the reason for his depression, if not the cause then a reminder of everything he lost. The biggest loss, his son, their son, was all her fault. She believed Mulder would be better without her.
She even believed she would be better without him. She still clung to that belief, even after all the other premises proved wrong. There weren't many options left for her and she was well aware that she couldn't take back what she gave up and expect it to remain untouched, unchanged, unbroken…
They were in a better place, finally. They were partners again, back in those familiar roles that suited them much better than playing house. She wasn't going to ruin it for a roll in the hay.
No, last night was a mistake brought on by her grief and his illness. It couldn't happen again. After everything they've been through together, she couldn't reduce their relationship to casual sex. Both of them deserved more, and they weren't going to find it in each other. No, sadly not anymore.
Not that she could imagine ever loving anybody else, but forever is a long time…
Mulder used the toilet and washed his face, looking around the Scully's mother's bathroom. It brought back fond memories of deceased woman. She tried to make him call her Maggie, but she always stayed Mrs. Scully to him.
He was there when she died, but it still seemed unreal. Some things he believed to be immortal, like this woman or his relationship to her daughter.
Mulder shook his head, trying to clear his head. There was no point to cry over spilled milk. There was still so much left to look forward to. He had his job again. He had his partner. Everything else, their love, their child, he had to learn to put behind him.
He had to, really. His therapist wouldn't clear him for the job otherwise. His work was all he had, but that was a good thing, since it was the kind of job that doesn't leave much room for personal life anyway.
Refreshed, even though wearing yesterday's clothes, he went to the front door without bothering to say goodbye. Scully didn't want formalities, she wanted him gone. She made that very clear and he had no objections. He definitely didn't want to talk.
He opened the door, startling a woman standing in front of it, prepared to knock. She had a long dark hair, a toddler, and she was very pregnant and beautiful.
Mulder took out his wallet, fished for twenty-dollar bill and offered it to her.
"Oh no," the woman objected. "I am not here to beg."
"Sorry," Mulder placed the bill back in the wallet, eyeing her belly and the kid suspiciously. What else could she have wanted?
"Why are you here?" he asked her. "Who are you?"
"Alex Reid. Harris," she quickly corrected herself. "Dr. Alex Harris."
"Fox Mulder," he supplied, offering his hand. "FBI."
"Oh," Alex shook his hand awkwardly. "I'm looking for Margaret Scully, actually."
"A friend of yours?" Mulder was growing more and more suspicious, and less willing to give any information to this strange woman with Canadian accent.
"No, um," Alex was just growing more confused. "I don't know what, if anything, she is to me."
"Was," Mulder corrected her. "Mrs. Scully was recently deceased."
"Oh, I…" Alex didn't really know what to say. "I'm sorry."
Suddenly, Scully appeared behind Mulder. "Who are you talking to?"
"A fertile doctor who isn't sure about her own name," Mulder provided. Alex cringed, deciding that she didn't like him and transferring her attention to the woman.
"My name is…" she started, but stopped in the middle of introduction. This woman… She's seen her before.
"Would you please hold him?" she turned to Mulder, handing her son to him. She didn't want the kid to wander around while she searched her purse for something. Mulder awkwardly took him, unused to being around kids, even though the boy accepted him immediately. The last time he held a child in his arms, it was his own son…
Mulder shook his head fiercely, scaring away unwanted memories before the emotions got a chance to take over him. He had to learn to put it behind him. He wasn't going to let it come in front of him again. Ever.
Alex finally dug up some folder, opened it and fished a photograph from it, handing it to Scully. "You are the woman in this picture."
"Yes," Scully confirmed, eyeing the woman suspiciously. "Where did you find this?"
"This man on your right," Alex ignored the question, for now. "Did you know him?"
"Of course I know him!" Scully exclaimed. "I haven't seen him in years, but I can still recognize my little brother, Charlie Scully. Do you know where he is? Who are you? What is this about?"
"I'm Dr. Alex Harris," Alex said her name correctly this time. "The man in the picture is my late husband, Dr. Charlie Harris."