Author's Notes: I recently caught the end of "Wayne's World 2" on cable and while laughing at Wayne's mad dash to the church to stop the wedding (ala "The Graduate"), it occurred to me that it's always the man running to save the damsel in distress. What if the woman was the one who had to stop the guy? And from such a passing thought this was born.

Spoilers: None, late Season 7 before "all things"

Thanks SO much to Alia for her swift but thorough beta, Silke for giving a rough draft a quick read, and both for letting me know it worked.
Cory, much thanks for the last-minute edit!

(This document updated with new edit 10/9/09)

For Good
By Suzanne L. Feld
Rated PG-13 for language/adult situations

How had this happened? Scully thought as she stared at the other woman's hand and the sparkling four-carat engagement ring. Where, just where, had they gone wrong?

Mulder was beaming, Nancy was simpering, and Skinner was looking totally baffled, so that left her to say something into the shocked silence that had fallen at Mulder's announcement. "Uh, congratulations?" she finally said, glancing up into her partner's face. But he was looking at his fiancée, who was grinning back at him like a fucking baboon.

Just how had this happened? she wondered again, finally turning away without another word and leaving the basement office, eschewing the elevator and trudging up the stairs. She needed to be alone and wasn't in the mood to pass meaningless chatter should there be someone in the elevator, especially if Skinner followed her.

Not for the first time she was glad she'd kept her mouse-sized cubicle near the third-floor bullpen; if she hadn't had anywhere to go other than the X-Files office, she probably would have left work for the day no matter what the consequences.

She sat down behind her tiny desk and put her head in her hands, fighting back the threatening tears with the determination and will that had gotten her through med school, residency, and Quantico, never mind the derision that the X-Files team were treated with by other agents. Her head rang with Mulder's words from the night before:

"Look, Scully, you had your chance. I'm free now that I know the truth about Samantha, and the Consortium is gone, and I want my chance at a home and a family. You were my first choice, but since you've made it clear that you're not interested, I'm moving on. I don't love Nancy like I love you, but something like you and I had only comes along once in a person's lifetime. It was your choice to pick career over romance, not mine. Remember that."

At least he called to warn me that she was coming in to meet him for lunch, Scully thought with a heavy sigh. Although she'd tried to be out of the office when they were in it, they'd returned early and caught her, as well as Skinner, there. She glanced at the plain manila file folder sitting half-buried beneath a pile of reports on the corner of her desk; she hadn't had the heart to do shit for the last few weeks and her tiny area looked worse than Mulder's desk. The folder was unmarked but she knew what it contained: the dossier on Nancy Jae O'Neil… soon to be Nancy Jae Mulder.

She went over the information in her head again, trying to figure out what this Nancy woman had that she didn't, why he'd chosen her over his own partner whom he'd professed to love. Despite the fact that he had proposed to her and she'd refused him, Scully couldn't understand why he had immediately moved on to someone else so readily.

Nancy was four years younger than he and born and raised on the east side of D.C., a rather rough area even in the early 1970s when she was a child. Despite growing up in a very poor family, she had graduated valedictorian of her high school class while working two or three jobs at a time, taken three semesters at the University of the District of Columbia where she majored in liberal arts—apparently paying cash—then disappeared for about a year before resurfacing to take courses in bartending at a reduced-tuition trade school for the underprivileged. Ever since, she'd worked a series of bartending and waitressing jobs, moving every few years but never leaving the greater D.C. area. She had dated occasionally but, as far as Scully could discover, had never had a long-term, serious relationship until Mulder. She'd been in her present apartment in a somewhat rough blue-collar neighborhood for about eighteen months, and Scully wondered snidely how much of a step up her partner's place in Alexandria would be for her.

They had met in his favorite bar, she assumed, since Nancy still worked there. After they were married, would she quit to become a wife and mother? Scully thought bitterly. She knew he'd become independently wealthy after the sales of his parents' homes as well as their vacation cottage and had invested the money wisely. Hell, he probably didn't even need to work.

Tearing her eyes away from the folder, she unwittingly remembered the first, but sadly enough not last, time she'd found them together. She hadn't even known he was seeing someone when she'd gone to his apartment to drop off some paperwork he'd mentioned he was going to work on that night but had left at the office. At that time she'd still been hoping they could heal their weeks-old rift; though she didn't want to admit it to herself, she missed their hanging out, especially the movie nights, and had a half-formed idea in her mind that he might invite her in for a bit.

He'd opened the door at her knock, his hair tousled, wearing only a pair of jeans unsnapped and half-unzipped, doing them up as she had stared in surprise. "Oh, Scully, sorry, I didn't remember that you were coming by tonight," he'd said, clearly flustered, reaching for a t-shirt that was tossed haphazardly over the back of a dining room chair. "Those for me?"

She'd held out the red-and-white edged folders. "Sorry if I, ah, interrupted something," she'd said snidely, thinking she'd caught him masturbating. "Just thought I'd drop these off."

"Fox? Who's at the door?" an unmistakably feminine voice called from deeper inside the apartment. A clearly young, feminine voice she realized.

Scully had felt her eyes widen and jaw drop, staring up at him in shock. Mulder had bit his lip, then turned his head and called back, "It's my partner from work, hon. Be there in a minute."

Scully had simply turned and walked away, expecting him to call after her, but he hadn't. She'd heard the door close quietly as she walked away and was fighting back roiling sobs before she got to her car; she had managed to keep them in until she got home, but that night she'd lain awake in her dark bed for hours, alternately staring dry-eyed at the ceiling and crying her eyes out.

An ice-cold washcloth, a heavy application of eye makeup, and a good blast of caffeine in the form of a double-shot latte had gotten her to work the next morning, breezing into the office as if nothing had happened the previous night. She wasn't going to mention it, but the minute she had walked in he'd jumped up from his desk and started. "Scully, I'm sorry about last night, I didn't remember you mentioning that you were coming by…"

"I didn't. I just thought I'd stop by and drop them off."

"Ah, well, then."

"So, Mulder, I didn't know you were dating."

He'd run his hands through his hair, mussing it much like it had been the night before, although she didn't think that his hands had done it then. "Yeah, uh, I've been seeing Nancy a few weeks now. We've known each other a while—for a few years, actually."

She had turned away and bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood but maintained her composure otherwise. Their huge fight had been almost three weeks ago; had he gone right out afterward and dragged this other woman into his bed?! When she had felt she could speak without her voice quivering she had said, "Well, then, I hope things work out for you. Would you happen to have the file on the Brakeman case around here? I couldn't find it on my desk yesterday."

The day had gone on as usual, and as time went by she didn't mention it again, nor did he. She was careful to go nowhere near his apartment again and deeply missed his occasional unannounced visit or three a.m. phone calls although she wouldn't even admit it to herself, never mind him. They were scrupulously polite to each other but, whether they were in or out of town, there was no more eating together at all-night diners or visiting each other at all hours or even jogging together. Even their occasional lunches were strained, though they still worked as well together as they ever had.

Then had come his call last night warning her about Nancy meeting him at work for lunch. She had been cool and distant, but he'd called her bluff.

"You don't like the fact that I'm getting serious with someone else, do you, Scully?"

"Who, me? Don't flatter yourself, Mulder. You can do or see whomever you want." She'd winced at her choice of words but luckily he didn't seem to catch her faux pas.

He'd snorted. "I can be honest and admit that I wouldn't like seeing you with someone else, Scully. Although I guess that's not very fair now."

"You're damn straight it's not! You've truly got some gall, Mulder. You had your—"

That was when he'd interrupted her with his little speech that even now rang in her ears. Had she really been the one to break off the burgeoning romantic relationship between them? she wondered. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him, or even have sex with him, but she liked her life just the way it was and didn't want to change it any more significantly than she had to. He could be so emotionally needy one minute and coldly distant the next that he made her crazy at times; that was the main reason she had never let him take them to that next level. She wasn't sure how to handle the complications he would cause in her life, especially if she let herself fall completely in love with him. And, on top of everything else, she knew damn good and well that, if they got married, the Bureau would insist that they not work together. There was a "don't ask don't tell" policy about partners who were involved, but there could be no ignoring a marriage license. And she did not want to leave the X-Files… although she was beginning to wonder if the job was more important than the relationship they could have away from it.

Just being with him would have been enough, she thought, who needed the whole getting married/committed thing?

Obviously he does, a part of her mind whispered traitorously. He asked you to marry him without even doing more than kissing you; did you not think he was serious?

Oh, I knew he was serious, she answered the little voice angrily. And that was the problem. I don't want all that, I never have and I never will.

Liar.

Well, perhaps my reaction to his out-of-the-blue proposal was a little harsh…

Just then she heard Skinner's voice nearby and grabbed the top file, opening it on the desk in front of her. "Agent Scully. I'd like to see you in my office immediately," he boomed, his broad shoulders just about filling the doorway of her cubicle. She got up and followed him without a word, but once they were in his office with the door closed he turned to her without waiting for her to take a seat. "What in the hell is going on here?" he demanded, hands on hips, staring down at her. His white shirt was pulled tight over his broad shoulders, and the harsh overhead fluorescents flashed off the lenses of his glasses.

She stared up at him, taken aback. "What?" she said, not quite sure what he meant.

"I mean Agent Mulder and his sudden engagement, Agent Scully," he said, glaring down at her. "I had noticed you wandering around here like a lost soul for the last couple of weeks, but didn't realize that he was the source of the problem… although perhaps I should have."

She moved away, going to sit in what she privately through of as "her" chair before his desk. "There's no problem, sir," she said firmly, crossing her legs at the knee. "Everything is just fine." And perhaps if I say that often enough, it will come true.

He sat down behind his desk, removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "I have known you for almost ten years, Agent Scully, and you are the world's worst liar whether it's something to do with your health or covering for Agent Mulder. That hasn't changed in this situation."

She felt her iron grip wavering and shored it up with a dint of will. Leaning forward and putting both feet on the floor in preparation to rise, she said, "Be that as it may, sir, there isn't a problem here. Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes, and stay put. Dana, why are you doing this to yourself? Why don't you transfer out?"

She nearly lost it at the sympathetic, understanding look on his open, clearly concerned face. But she had never yet run from a fight, meaning Mulder and the X-Files, and wasn't about to start. "Because the X-Files are as much mine as his, now," she said semi-truthfully. "I'm not about to walk out on him—them—when I'm needed most."

Skinner hooked his glasses over his ears then folded his hands on his clean desk blotter. He looked over at her, started to speak, hesitated, then a closed look came over his face. "I can't force you to transfer without good reason, Agent Scully, but I will be keeping an eye on things in your division. If I see this affecting your solve rate, I will take immediate action, is that understood?"

"It is." She stood, barely hanging on to her composure. "May I go now, sir?"

He waved her away, shaking his head. But as she laid her hand on the doorknob, he called from behind her, "If I had someone who cared for me half as much as you do for Agent Mulder, I'd never look at anyone else."

She barely made it to the ladies' room before breaking down, sitting and letting her silent sobs out into her cupped hands, not caring in the rush of release how bad she might look later.

***

This is not happening, she thought numbly. This simply is not happening.

She stared through the window at the couple sitting at a small table near the middle of the room, dark and light heads bent over a checkerboard. So much for a latte on the way home, she thought with a sigh and did an about-face, heading back to her car parked up the street. Mulder knew that this was her favorite Starbuck's, about equidistant between their apartments and on the way to work; why did he have to take her there? How many thousands of times over the last seven years had they sat at that exact table discussing cases, arguing, or just talking?

And since when did Mulder play checkers?!

***

This has got to stop. Is there nowhere I can go that they're not?

Scully was sitting in her car at a stoplight on the way home from work when she idly glanced over and there were Mulder and Nancy, shooting hoops on an otherwise-empty court in a small park not far from the Hoover. Though the blonde woman was barely an inch or so taller than Scully herself, she was clearly very muscular and athletic in her tank top and knee-high jersey shorts, pretty much keeping up with the taller man. As she watched, Nancy blocked one of Mulder's shots, bouncing off his chest laughing and stealing the ball from him, then whirling around to toss it at the high net herself. Scully never saw if the blonde made the shot or not, however, as she slammed her foot on the gas the moment the light turned green and shot away from them as fast as she safely could.

She and Mulder went out of town the next day and, later that night, lying sleepless in her narrow hotel bed, Scully heard a faint voice from the next room. She got up silently and padded over to the wall, laying her ear against it.

"Yeah, that was fun wasn't it? We'll definitely have to do that again. I never thought I'd like bowling but you changed my mind. Hmn? Oh, just a few days, I don't think it'll be much longer than that… I miss you too."

She moved away with a heavy heart, knowing whom he was talking to and not wanting to hear the final three words that he would most likely sign off with, words she had once heard from him and not taken seriously enough.

***

You've got to be kidding me.

She stared around Father McCue's rotund form at the pair unloading the Last Harvest truck, Nancy handing bags and boxes to Mulder who stacked them on the table behind him. Though appearing rather delicate at first glance, the other woman had bulging muscles in her arms and her entire body was clearly strong and toned by the easy way she bent and moved. She was easily lifting twenty-five-pound sacks of rice while laughing and joking, her shoulder-length, spiral-permed hair glinting golden in the sunlight from beneath the red paisley kerchief she wore.

This huge federal employee fundraiser to feed the homeless had been advertised for weeks in the Hoover Building; the FBI, ATF, and IRS were all competing to donate the most food, and she supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised to see Mulder here. But did he have to bring her?!

She couldn't face them outside of work. "Father… I'm feeling a little dizzy, I'm going to go sit down for a while," she said, handing him the cloth carry-sack of non-perishable cans of food she'd collected in her building, then did an about-face and headed back to her car. Even though she'd gotten her church involved in this, she couldn't stay, couldn't watch Mulder and Nancy together. For weeks she'd been wanting to ask him if they'd set a date but had been unable to think of a way to bring it up; in the back of her mind she'd been thinking that when he did, she really would transfer out.

She reached her car and leaned against it, wiping her sweaty forehead on the sleeve of her t-shirt. As she was about to dig in her jeans pocket for her keys, a shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Mulder approaching, causing her to frown. "Scully, are you all right? Father McCue said you were feeling dizzy."

Ah, shit. "Yeah, I, ah, shouldn't be out in the sun without a hat," she said, looking away from him and gesturing to the large, open, grassy park where the fundraiser was being held. Jesus, but he looked handsome and incredibly sexy in a plain grey tank top and snug black jeans! His bare arms and shoulders gleamed with light sweat in the bright sunshine.

"Hey—you sure it's not anything more?" he said in a concerned voice. "Have you been to the doctor recently?"

Heaving a sigh, she nodded. "Two weeks ago, and all is well," she said in a flat voice, not adding that it had been an OB/GYN checkup and not about her cancer, which she knew he was referring to. "I'm fine, Mulder."

He snorted. "I've heard that before. You don't look well, Scully, you've lost weight and you've got dark shadows beneath—"

"Oh like you give a damn!" she snapped, glaring up at him. "Just leave me the fuck alone and go back to your fiancée. I'm sure she wonders where you are."

She had gotten her keys out of her pocket and now unlocked her car and yanked the door open, but it was stopped in mid-swing by a large hand next to hers on the hot metal. "Don't give me that crap, Scully, I know you too well," Mulder snapped, looming over her. "I'm worried about you."

She damn near lashed out, but stilled the violent impulse at the last minute. Beating the shit out of her partner, which she longed to do, in public in front of hundreds of people was not the way to advance her career. "I'm transferring out of the X-Files, Mulder," she said in a perfectly calm voice, surprising herself as that wasn't what she'd planned to say. "Consider this my two weeks' notice. Now let go of my car door before I make you."

Staring down at her wide-eyed, he did as asked. As she drove away she glanced in her rear-view mirror to see that he was still standing there staring after her and she managed to hold the tears in until she was around the corner.

***

This has gone on long enough and I simply cannot take any more.

"Mulder."

"It's me. Are you by yourself?"

"Uh, yeah—"

"Good. Stay that way. I'll be over in fifteen minutes; I want to talk to you alone." She slammed down the phone before she could change her mind, scooped up her keys, and determinedly left her apartment. She was done with crying.

***

When she knocked on his door Mulder's low voice called, "It's open, Scully, come on in." She did so almost fearfully, looking around as she walked through the foyer to see signs of Nancy and sure enough, there they were. But rather than women's clothes flung around, she saw that Mulder's desk had been moved away from the living room windows and pushed against the wall to the left of where it had been, leaving a large empty space. From marks in the carpet she could see that something had been there recently, she just had no idea what.

"An easel," Mulder said from where he was sprawled on the familiar old black leather couch still wearing his tank top and jeans from earlier. "Nancy is an artist and she had her extra easel over here for when inspiration struck. Now, of course, I have to dig my chairs out of storage and drag them back over here."

"You do?" Scully said dumbly, standing in the doorway. "Why?"

"Because Nancy broke it off with me tonight." He held up a tiny glittering object that, she realized with a pang in her belly, was the engagement ring she'd seen on the blonde woman's finger a month or so ago. "She said it was obvious that I didn't really love her, that I was in love with you, and she couldn't live like that."

"Jesus, Mulder," Scully whispered, not moving. She was frozen in place, watching as he set the ring on the coffee table next to a pair of empty mugs and rose to walk over and stand in front of her. She could only look up at him silently, thunderstruck.

"She was right, Scully. I was using her as a substitute for you. She was nothing more than a friend even though I really wanted to move on and try to forget what you and I couldn't have. I think she figured that out because I, ah, didn't, er… well, let's just say that I was saving the big moment for the honeymoon." He was looking at her, straight in the eye, despite his slightly stumbling speech.

"You didn't sleep with her?" Scully said, shocked. Who other than the uber-religious didn't have a trial run with someone they were considering marrying these days?

"I couldn't, and didn't realize why until she pointed it out," he said, staring down into her eyes. "Scully, I am sorrier than I can express for the pain I've put you through. I didn't realize until earlier today that it was me doing it to you. Can you forgive my stupidity?"

"Only if you can forgive what I've done to you. Mulder, I am equally sorry that I reacted the way I did when you proposed to me; it was a total shock and, honestly, scared the hell out of me so badly that I reacted defensively. I came here tonight to tell you that I'm sorry I ruined our chances to be together; I finally realized that it was me and not you."

To her surprise his face broke out in a happy smile. "Ruined? Nothing's ruined forever; you of all people should know that." He took her cold hands in his warm ones, not touching her anywhere else. "Give us another chance, Scully? Please? I'll wait as long as it takes, I won't pressure or push you, I can—"

Once again she reacted without knowing what she was going to do and launched herself into his arms as tremendous relief swept over her. "Oh, God, Mulder, I never thought you'd trust or want me again," she whispered against his neck, reveling in the feel of his long, lean body against hers, his strong arms around her. "Just the fact that you're willing to give me another chance means the world to me."

He leaned back a little, hands on her waist, so that they could see each other's faces. His eyes were suspiciously bright, gleaming down into hers. "Always, Scully, always. You are my one in five billion and I'll never forget that again."

With perfect timing their faces moved towards each other and as their lips met Scully kept expecting to wake up, but for once it wasn't a dream. It was finally real.

.

EPILOGUE

Three months later…

"So where is she?"

"Pathologist's conference in Atlantic City for her new position teaching at Quantico; she starts next week."

"So what did you want to see me about, Fox?"

"Just to find out how everything's going with you. I've wondered how you've been."

"Everything's going great. The new apartment is perfectly positioned to paint in with those huge, north-facing bay windows, and I've been working like crazy."

"You look well. Still teaching classes at the Y?"

"Three a week now, two beginner and one defense. I tell you, I was damn glad I'm a black belt when your partner looked at me with those furious eyes when we showed her the fake engagement ring!"

"I probably wouldn't have let you go through with all of it if you weren't. Scully's got quite the temper, but you have to admit she's not a quitter. And that is what I counted on when we dreamed that whole thing up."

"Well, I'm glad everything worked out the way you wanted it to."

"It did, but do you ever miss us hanging out, Nancy? Teaching me karate, going running, playing hoops?"

"Of course I do, you were my best friend for almost two months. But I knew going into this, we both did, that if it worked we wouldn't be able to see each other again. I do miss you, but I'm even more happy for you."

"Thanks. Remember, if there's ever anything I can do…"

"Just the introduction to Rodaigers was enough; that was all I needed, one good contact to see my work and get me out there. That was really sweet of you, too; you know you didn't have to do anything like that. You take care of yourself, Fox, and treat that lady of yours right this time around, you hear me?"

"Oh, I will, believe me. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid."

.

Two months after that…

"Scully, where's today's paper? I want to see if the Yankees won last night or not since you distracted me from the game."

"You didn't seem to mind being dragged off to bed an hour early. Here, I was just looking at it."

He walked into their kitchen and took the folded newspaper she handed him. "Hey—this isn't the sports section. It's arts and entertainment."

"Right, but look here." She got up and pointed to a quarter-page article on the second page, brushing his bare arm with hers. The headline read: "Opening Friday evening at the Attic Gallery: an exciting new exhibition of oil paintings by up-and-coming artist Nancy J. O'Neil".

He read no further, just moved his eyes to her face to find her smiling, of all things. "What?"

"I know you had something to do with this, Mulder, I just don't know what. But that's one of the things I love about you; you never forget people you care about."

She stretched up to kiss him briefly, then turned away and went back to her seat at the kitchen table, picking up her coffee cup, as his heart resumed its regular rhythm. "So, did the Yankees win?"

He shook his head, shutting his mouth with a snap. "You never fail to keep me guessing, Dana Scully Mulder."

"No more or less than you do me," she smiled up at him. "And let's never change that."

"You have a deal."

finis