Hello, everyone!

I've been out of practice for quite a while. Almost a year I want to say! This is the first multi-parter that I've attempted in aaaages so patience is very much appreciated :)

This story takes place post-IWTB. Mulder and Scully aren't mine and I'm even borrowing the character of Johnna from a play I saw at the beginning of the month and very much loved (August: Osage County. Anyone else?)

Enjoy!

-Dru

October.

Dana Scully remembered the month as October because the hospital was already becoming overwhelmed with people paranoid about sicknesses they knew were imminent. She remembered it as being close to the end of the month because Mulder had already been on the search for a perfect pumpkin and would sometimes wrangle her into a search for crazy stencils online. It made her smile to know that they still had the ability to let go and have a little childish fun every now and then, even after every heartbreaking thing they had been through together. Even though both of them still had a tendency to slip into crushing depressions that resulted in days feeling trapped and drained of the emotional enthusiasm they had once spoken to each other with.

But on that particular night she had remembered them being on a stretch of what she considered good days. The weather was being particularly merciful on them and snow had yet to grace the ground with its chilling presence. Mulder often times had dinner ready for her when she came through the front door, most nights at a surprisingly reasonable hour. They would sit together, Scully often being inspired to bring her chair around to his side of the table as they sat with their hands clasped under the oak, relieving those timid early days.

That night, Mulder had helped her do the dishes, then slunk warm arms around her middle from behind. Resting his chin on her shoulder, Scully smiled.

"What's on the agenda for tonight, Agent Mulder?" she grinned, goose bumps shooting down her spine as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Oooo," he purred near her ear. "So its Agent Mulder tonight is it Agent Scully?" The way he emphasized the agent in front of her name evoked a soft flurry of giggles from her lips. She turned to face him, pressing her lips, maybe a little too roughly, against his. The fluorescence of the lights above their kitchen sink mixed in with his familiarly intoxicating scent made Scully feel a little weak.

"Hey," he lulled softly as they pulled away, him bending to rest his forehead against hers. "Let me lock up first."

Mulder had grown increasingly paranoid in the past few weeks. One of the neurosurgeons that worked alongside Scully in the hospital had been mugged out in the parking lot, which had shaken up the relatively quiet and secluded area. It wasn't as if Mulder and Scully had ever gone to lengths to not protect themselves, but ever since they had made peace with the FBI, going a night without locking the front door didn't ever prove to be worrisome. Even though she didn't see reason to worry with Mulder as her very real protection, Scully was touched that he gave into the precautions that he did. Even if that did mean a nightly perimeter check of the house.

"Aw," Scully pouted, tugging at his belt loops. She nuzzled under his chin. "Let me lock the front door?"

Mulder grinned sheepishly. The things she still did to him were amazing.

"Fine. Ill go out the back. Don't open the door though. Okay?"

Scully rolled her eyes.

"You do realize I am a trained agent of the FBI dont you?"

"Were a trained agent of the FBI."

"Go!" Scully pushed him towards the back door. As it closed with a soft click, she padded out into the living room and turned the silver lock on their front door. The sound was promptly followed by a startled cry, something that resembled the sound of a wounded animal. Her overwhelming instinct to help the hurt, one of the reasons she had become a doctor, forced her to instinctively reverse the lock and fling open the door. She gasped.

Sitting in the dim, orange glow of their porch light was a young woman, early twenties and obviously in pain. Her thick black hair hung all the way at her middle, her dark eyes stunningly wide and beautiful against her pale face. As Scully took a step out on to the porch, the woman scrambled to her feet, keeping her left arm clutched close to her body.

"Scully," she heard a deep growl out in the darkness of the yard, just off the porch. "Go back inside." Scully watched the woman involuntarily shudder at the dark tone of Mulder's voice. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Whats your name?" Scully whispered, her eyes never leaving the small, scared figure in front of her. She could feel Mulder quickly ascend the porch steps.

"Johnna," her voice came out very dark and rough sounding, almost not fitting of the angelic sweetness of her face. As Mulder came into her line of vision, Johnna crumpled at Scully's feet.

Her body-wracking sobs were the only things piercing their otherwise serene night.