I don't own the X-Files. I'm not making any money off of writing this. My writing, much like my personality, seems to be a powerful antidote to every known female aphrodesiac. The truth gets ugly when it's cornered.

Chapter 1: A Smile from a Veil

It had all seemed so simple and inevitable at the time. The casual flirtations were almost unintentional then. Certainly the work had created a bond between them (shared danger will do that), and perhaps it was inevitable. That first awkward kiss. . . the second, less awkward, kiss. . . it all snowballed from there.

Naturally, the bureau frowns upon such things, but at some point even the FBI accepts that people can and do fall in love. If anything, through their courtship, Mulder and Scully worked even harder. Skinner gave his (un-needed) blessing. Then came the wedding. It seemed like a fairy tale. Looking back, it was more like a blur; as if someone else was doing his thinking for him.

The problem, of course, is that marriage doesn't fix people so much as show how much they need fixing. There were certain obvious ways that the loss of his sister had affected him, but there were more subtle ones as well. A part of Mulder stopped growing up that day. That child in him was part of what made him such a charismatic person (you could imagine him as Calvin from the comic strip), and was part of what the people who were close to him loved about him. It was also something that made getting very close to him very painful. Also, somewhere deep in his psyche, it was as if he swore on the day that he lost his her that he would never be hurt that much again. He closed a door in his heart, lest he ever love someone that much and be loved by them that much; lest he ever be that close to someone and have them be that close to him; lest he be hurt again.

That was where the problems began, he now realized. He remembered how many times she had wanted to talk to him. and how little he had been able to say. He remembered how she had pleaded, saying that all she wanted was for him to share his life with her, whether it hurt or not; he just couldn't bring himself to talk about it.

He remembered the day she moved out; how empty the apartment seemed. He remembered the last thing Skinner did before his retirement; transfering Scully and finding him a new partner. Mulder had always worked hard; people who mocked him for everything else admired him for that. Now. . . people were frightened by how hard he worked. Scully's departure had created a void in his life and he filled it with the only thing he had left.

Years passed. It was easier with a male partner. There was a bond of trust between them, perhaps even friendship; but there would never be anything more. He wasn't afraid of his new partner like he had been afraid of Scully; this person couldn't cut him that deep; perhaps no one could anymore.

Mulder retired. Skinner came back for the ceremony and gave a well-received speech; Scully declined the opportunity to do so. Afterwards (having already cleaned out his desk), he went home and sat on his sofa.

He was alone now; his apartment was empty. So many years ago there had been two things that gave his life meaning. First he lost one of them, and now he had lost the other. He realized, with rare clarity, what he would do. He went to his closet and grabbed a few things and went to the top of the stairs. It was dark and his fingers were shaking as he set up. He climbed over the railing, closed his eyes, and stepped forward. His feet stopped a few feet from the floor. His body twitched.

Chapter 2: Heroes for Ghosts

Mulder woke up, covered with sweat, and sat up in bed. It took him a few moments to remember what had (and what had not) happened. He and Scully were still partners; they were not married and never had been. Nothing, not the courtship or the kiss, had happened between them, and he realized with comfort that they never would.

I hope that this story is good and that it is a little different. I aspire to nothing more, but also to nothing less.

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