Disclaimer: I do not own Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, or The X-Files. I earn nothing but pleasure for my efforts.

~*~*~

I lay awake in the dark staring toward the ceiling I cannot see. A line from a country western song plays over and over in my mind.

'The most you said with just one word.'

I contemplated that over and over on the way home, and it still plagues me.

One word. What was the most I'd ever said in just one word? That begs the question: what one word?

Mulder.

Over the course of the last several years, that one word, depending on the situation and the tone and inflection I used, has said so many different things.

Disbelief: 'I can't believe you're dragging me to Butt Fuck, Egypt on a wild goose chase. *Again.*'

Impatience: 'Oh, come on, you can't really expect me to believe that.'

Worry: 'Where the heck are you. You've been gone way too long.'

Fear: 'Oh, God, please let him be all right.'

And once, just once...

'Oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-that-this-is-really-happening-that-I'm-in-his-bed-and-he's-making-me-feel-like-oh-my-god.'

Ecstasy.