He worked by the light on his desk, the pathetic lamp trying to give him solace for the late night's work. But he didn't care. There was no longer anything to go home to. Once again another relationship fell through the cracks, but to anyone who knew the man, it wasn't fair to place the blame on him. The women were just fillers, so to speak, pretty girls to pass the time with, pretty girls who were always looking for more.

The janitor was often his only companion during these late nights. He would stop by the basement office on his rounds, chat about sports, and maybe drop off some food courtesy of his wife. The story of Mulder's downfall was a secret to no one.

What was supposed to be just another weekend apart turned into the catalyst for disaster.

"Just give him another chance," Scully said. "He was angry then, scared. You would have said the exact same things if you were in his position."

But Mulder vehemently denied Scully's offer. There was no way he was going to spend an entire evening with Bill Scully Jr. After the scene in the hospital, the threats and the guilt laid upon him, Mulder did not have the energy to deal with him. Scully was better now. There was no need to make nice with anyone.

"Go without me, Scully, you'll survive on your own. Besides, I've got some things I could catch up on. Have some fun. Come Monday, we'll be back in this office and maybe we'll actually have something to talk about. Don't you want to engage in the cursory how-was-your-weekend dialogue?"

Scully conceded. It wasn't like she was dreading to see her brother; she was more afraid about facing his naval friends, some of whom she never met. If Mulder agreed to come along, he would have been some type of buffer, and he was fully aware of that fact.

The two said their goodbyes for the day and parted in the parking lot. Mulder watched Scully drive off, presumably to the airport to pick up her brother. He, on the other hand, sat in his car for a while, debating where the weekend should take him.

He ended up in a bar that he used to frequent. It was still the same place with dingy lighting and that indefinable sour smell to set the mood. Mulder slid onto a bar stool and ordered a beer. When the beverage arrived, Mulder sipped it slowly, not in the mood get the more than a slight buzz. He was here only to people watch – to pass the time.

It was Victoria was started the relationship; it was Victoria who ended it. She spotted Mulder enter the shoddy bar and pegged him as someone different. She was a regular at the place, going nearly every day after work to brighten an otherwise dreary life. The other regulars were lowlifes, criminals, and the occasional bum who managed to scrounge enough money for a drink.

"Buy me a drink?" Victoria slid into the stool next to Mulder's and leaned on the counter.

Mulder glanced at her, noticed her figure, and sat up a bit straighter.

"Sure."

He ordered another beer and watched Victoria take the bottle by the neck and down the beverage in one take. Mulder couldn't help but laugh. She slammed the bottle back down the counter, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and introduced herself.

"They call me Victoria. What do they call you?"

"Mu…" Mulder stopped himself. There was something about this woman that intrigued him. For one night, he decided, he could stop being just Mulder. "Fox. My name is Fox."

They began to talk, impersonal details at first but as the alcohol began to flow their conversation became more and more erratic. Details about the X-Files surfaced and Victoria listened intently. She was intrigued by it all.

By the time the bar closed, Mulder was intoxicated beyond belief. Victoria was stumbling around as well, but she had revealed somewhere through the night that she came from a family of heavy drinkers. She was used to it. Living only a block away, Victoria assured that Mulder's car was safe in the bar's parking lot despite the shady environment. Easily persuaded under the influence of alcohol, Mulder agreed and the two stumbled off to Victoria's studio.

It was sparsely furnished: a mattress on the floor, boxes as side tables, and a pile of cushions as a sofa. Mulder laughed as he saw the room and Victoria laughed as well. She knew her living standards were poor, but she was working on it.

Without thinking twice, they both plopped down onto the makeshift bed.

"I don't think I've ever had that much to drink before. It's a miracle I haven't upchucked yet," Mulder said as he sprawled across the bed, arms and legs thrown carelessly over Victoria's body.

"You've handled yourself well against a seasoned pro like me Fox. I'm impressed."

Victoria climbed out from Mulder's appendages and sprawled her own body across his in retaliation.

What happened next, Mulder would claim he had no control over. Victoria's allure was too strong to refuse, and besides, he was only man. It had been months since his last lay and that had been unsatisfying to say the least. Her lips pressed against his and soon they were hungrily engaged in each other. Coming up for air only hindered their progress.

Hands were free roaming, groping, pulling, and tugging off pieces of clothes. Mulder stared at Victoria's naked body in awe. It was near perfection.

Scully was the farthest thing from his mind.