Chapter Four: It Just Feels Right

She recalled reading somewhere about pockets that existed within the folds of the mind. Locked away safely until a certain smell or object triggered it to be remembered. At the time, she had wondered how many pockets existed within her own mind. How many experiences had occurred that she couldn't recall? She had forgotten all about the article until now. Why were they calling each other by their last names? And why did she feel as though one of her pockets had exploded?

"I don't know." She honestly answered. "It just felt right."

He suddenly started to laugh and she looked at him slightly annoyed by the fact that she wasn't included in on the joke. "May I ask what's so funny?"

"I'm sorry." He said as his laughter slowly died. "It's just that I make everyone call me Mulder. Even my own parents."

She narrowed her eyes in speculation, but concluded that with a name like Fox, who wouldn't refrain from referring to their last name. "Well, you see no wonder I called you by your last name."

He looked at her as though she was in denial. "Yeah, but I didn't ask you to call me by my last name; and besides that it still doesn't answer why I referred to you as Scully?"

She wondered if her eyebrow could get any higher or if there was another way to convey her feelings of bewilderment. Was she actually going to try to find a reasonable explanation for calling each other by their last names?

"I'm a doctor. People refer to me by my last name all the time. You felt incline to do the same." Apparently she was.

"I called you by your last name before you informed me on what it was you did for a living." He answered disputably.

She was now at a complete lost for words. They had gone full circle—starting with nothing and ending with nothing. "Do you want to call me Dana?"

He seemed surprised by her question and quickly shook his head. "No, Scully feels right."

"Okay." It was the only word she could think of to say. Lifting the mug to her lips she hastily took a sip allowing the semi hot liquid to spill within her mouth. She was pleased to see the topic of names had finally reached an end.

"I like you." He replied quickly.

She nearly spit out her coffee upon hearing his confession. Grabbing a handful of napkins and bringing them to her mouth she glanced indulgently at him. "You don't even know me. How can you like me?"

"Intuition" Was his only reply.

His smile was contagious and she found herself smiling back in return. "You know Mulder; you just keep unfolding like a flower."

To her surprise he leaned in close to her, his head only inches from hers and whispered. "Admit it."

His breath was warm against her skin and she felt almost intoxicated by his scent. Somehow she managed to ask. "Admit what?"

He leaned in even closer so that his lips practically brushed hers and whispered, "Just admit it."

She closed her eyes lost within the moment. She wasn't sure what she was doing or what she was thinking. For the first time she was just allowing life to happen. She was surrendering control. "Fine. Fine. Fine." She snapped. "I will admit it. I sort of...you know...kind of...like you, too."

She heard his laughter and quickly opened her eyes to see that he had returned to his earlier sitting position and now stared at her grinning from ear to ear. "I knew you liked me." He mocked. "I had you at hello."

"Excuse me," she interrupted. "I hate to intrude upon your fantasy here, but you never said hello. Yeah, remember, you used that lame pick-up line 'I'm colorblind.'"

He dramatically placed his hand over his heart and did his best-wounded impression. "I'm hurt, Scully."

She couldn't help but laugh at his comical ability. It had been so long that she had actually forgotten the sound of her laughter. It was pure, soft. It almost had its own melody to it. She didn't find life too amusing anymore. Something was missing. It was just a feeling but as the days progressed it only grew stronger. Until her reality was only a blur within the dream she forever walked among.

"This is nice." He spoke in a raspy tone and she allowed herself to be submerged within his voice before finally answering him back.

"You're right. This is nice." And it was. If she hadn't been compelled to enter this diner she would be sitting home alone in her apartment once again and she was tired of that. She liked him. She had to admit. He was different then most guys she had meant. She sensed a loyalty to him though no rationale existed on to why this was.

His cell-phone went off then and she watched silently as he talked for a few minutes and scribbled something beyond her view down upon a napkin. Finally, the call ended and she once again found his attention on her.

"I'm sorry, Scully, but I am afraid I have to leave."

She could feel her whole spirit darken at such a prospect. She had only known him for a short time, but somehow was different because of it.

To her surprise his expression mirrored hers. And she remained silent as he spoke. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I can only hope that I will see you again sometime."

This was her opening to offer him her phone number or any other form of contact for another meeting, but instead she only nodded, not sure on what to say.

He stood slowly, offered her one nod, and then was gone. She sighed inwardly and turned to stare at the empty stool where he had once sat. She could still smell his scent and for a moment she wondered if she should run after him. But such actions were for movies. She picked up her coat when the napkin he had been writing on caught her eye. Picking up the soft material she quickly unfolded it to read what he had written. As she read the print she found herself smiling.