Day 4
"I've got the preliminary report," Scully said, walking into the office just after eleven holding up a plain manila file folder. "You're going to love this one, Mulder."

His head popped up from behind his old, yellowed monitor. "I am, am I?"

"We went back over Crista van Adal's body—and, by the way, we got it back just before they were about to cremate it—and we agreed that there are stab wounds where the flesh is missing, though it wasn't immediately obvious due to the tissue damage. Cudalhy still swears she didn't do anything but stab her, and a dental cast has confirmed that those were not her teeth marks nor did her hands fit the bruises on Crista's neck. The jury's still out on whose those were as it stands."

"With a confession it shouldn't matter especially since they're postmortem, though I am curious as to what throttled and gnawed on her," he said in a distracted voice, his eyes on the screen in front of him. "And why choke her after she was dead?"

She frowned as she walked around the desk. "What's so fascinating on the computer, Mulder? You find more chicken recipes?"

"No, they replaced my PC!" he beamed. "Look at this, my email loads in less than five minutes!"

"What about my docking station?"

"Uh, they didn't say," he hedged.

"That means no," she sighed. Tossing the folder on the desk she added, "So I guess this one's wrapped up."

"I guess so. Although I was thinking… whatever ravaged her body after she was dumped must be—"

"Oh no, Mulder, uh-uh! You are not in any way, shape or form staking out that neighborhood. Besides if you're right and it is an urban Bigfoot or Jersey Devil or what not, it seems to go after carrion—"

"Jersey Devil? In Baltimore? I didn't think of that," he said happily, smiling up at her. "You da bomb, Scully."

She could only groan and move over to the table where her laptop was set up; eight years and counting and she still didn't have her own desk. "So we've got the motive and the killer but no clue as to who ravaged her body after she was dumped. I guess we'll have to close it like this."

"Well I guess if you won't let me drag a corpse out of potter's field and stake out—"

She burst into laughter involuntarily. "I want to see your requisition form for that one!"

He stared at her blankly for a moment then also started laughing. It was this way that their boss found them, pausing in the doorway for a moment before saying dryly, "Something amusing, Agents?"

"Sorry sir, private joke," Scully said, wiping at her eyes delicately with her fingertips. "To what do we owe this honor?"

He leaned one shoulder against the doorway. "I came down to give you a heads-up. I know how much you two absolutely adore workshops and seminars and they're planning a Partners' Retreat for weekend after next. Might not be a bad idea for you to be out of town that weekend."

"Sir, I'd kiss you if I wasn't positive you'd knock me through the wall," Mulder said. "How about I put Scully up to it?"

Skinner ignored him, still speaking to the female half of the team. "And I also wanted to congratulate you on the swift resolution of the van Adal case. That was good work, Agents. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and I'll see you bright and early for that budget meeting tomorrow morning?"

Mulder shot to his feet and grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair. "You don't have to ask me twice," he said. "C'mon, Scully, get those little legs moving!"

She gave him an exasperated look. "I still have to shut down and pack my laptop, and I don't think the offer expires if we're not out of here in the next fifteen seconds," she said dryly and then turned back to Skinner. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, Agents. See you in the morning."

Scully suspected that she still set a land speed record packing up and they were out of the office and on the way home within five minutes. It was a beautiful early autumn day, the sky clear with a few wispy clouds, the temperature perhaps sixty degrees with a light, gusty wind that occasionally made both of their unbuttoned jackets flap. She was glad they'd decided to walk today despite the weight of her laptop case dragging at her shoulder. "Gee, we have the whole afternoon to play—what thoo want to do, Beaver?" Mulder said with a bad lisp.

"Anything that stops you from talking like that."

He laughed. "Anything?" he leered down at her.

"Within reason," she said, thinking of some of the things he liked to do for recreation and deliberately ignoring his insinuation. "I may play baseball again someday but basketball is out of the question considering you did nothing but knock me down repeatedly."

"We could go home, change, and go for a run," he suggested. "We still haven't checked out that park over on Madison and it's been, what, six months we've been meaning to get over there?"

"No, after walking home I'm in for the day," she said. "Plus we went to the gym last night so I don't feel the need to work out any more. Hell, a bubble bath and a nap doesn't sound half bad—you came to bed pretty late, didn't you?"

"Yeah, well, when I got up to use the bathroom 'Godzilla vs. Megalon' was on and you were already dozing off," he said. "I still can't wrap my head around going to bed at ten o'clock even on a work night."

"And I'm not staying up half the night to watch bad movies, so we'll have to agree to disagree on that one," she said. "Besides, just because we live together doesn't mean we're joined at the hip."

They arrived home a few minutes later and with relief Scully set her laptop down in the foyer. Mulder disappeared upstairs and with a shrug she headed for the kitchen, thinking to make a cup of tea and perhaps relax in the tub with a book if he wasn't interested in her nap suggestion.

But no sooner had she kicked off her shoes, set her jacket over the back of a kitchen chair, and put out her cup and teabag then she heard Mulder calling her name. "I'm in here," she said, going to the kitchen doorway and looking out to see him coming across the dining room with a large white box in his hands. "What's that?"

"I was going to save it for a special occasion, but we don't celebrate Sweetest Day and Christmas is too far away, so here," he said, handing her the box then going over and shutting off the stove.

"Hey, I was making tea!"

"And now you're opening my present," he said as she set the box on the small square table. The kitchen table was from his apartment, whereas the dining room one was hers as it had leaves that could expand it to seat eight. He leaned on the back of one of the chairs as she lifted the lid off and then parted the tissue paper.

"Oh my God, Mulder, how did you know?" she breathed as she lifted the sweater out of the box. Although it wasn't the blue and white one she often eyeballed at the store it was indeed an expensive, imported Windfjord Lillehammer cardigan sweater of the exact type she'd wanted for a long time. "How did you know?!" she repeated, holding it up against herself.

"I saw how you looked at and handled the one we found in Crista's suitcase," he said, smiling and clearly pleased at her reaction. "But I like this color better than the black one she had."

Scully already had her blazer off and unzipped the sweater, pulling it on over her plain white blouse. She didn't bother to tell him that Crista's had been a very dark forest green, not black, but despite his colorblindness he'd nailed this one; the deep red with black trim and decorations went well with her coloring. "I… I don't know what to say, it's beautiful and I've always wanted one of these," she finally said, looking up at him. "Thank you. But it must have cost—"

"Uh-uh, not another word," he said, walking around the table and cupping her face in both hands then leaning down and giving her a kiss that lasted perhaps a bit longer than it needed to just to shut her up. When they came up for air he added, "When I think of all the times I wanted to get you something just for the hell of it and I couldn't because we were nothing more than partners, it makes me want to buy you everything you look at."

"Well don't do that, we still have bills to pay," she smiled up at him, holding him around the waist. "The thought's appreciated, Mulder, but your birthday is next week, you shouldn't have gotten me this. I should be buying you--"

He shook his head. "Birthday schmirthday. Not another word, Scully. How about instead you show me your gratitude?"

She bit her lip as she looked up at him doing his usual comical leer down at her. Normally when he did that she knew he wasn't serious and brushed him off, but for once she decided not to. Need to keep him on his toes, keep him guessing just like he does me, she thought with humor. Instead of giving him a look and moving away like she normally would have, she reached up around his neck and yanked him down to her, breathing the word "okay" before giving him a kiss that, by all rights, should have boiled the water in the kettle on the stove behind them.

Though he wasn't expecting her response Mulder wasn't slow on the uptake and crushed her against him, kissing her back with equal passion and forgetting that he'd been half-kidding when he'd made the offer.

Said kettle was forgotten as they moved across the kitchen, bumping into the counters and the table before stumbling through the archway into the dining room. When they came up for air Mulder said almost breathlessly, "Almost forgot—was gonna tell you—have the perfect case to get us out of town next weekend—it's—oooh, Scully!"

"I don't know about you, but I'm done talking for the time being," she purred, dropping his suit jacket by the couch as they stumbled across the room to it. "Unless you'd rather let me thank you in words rather than actions for this beautiful sweater."

Like the remote had earlier in the week, Mulder's tie went flying over the back of the couch. "Talk? What's that?"

"That's the right answer."