Another four weeks have passed since I stopped sleeping with Scully, and still I've had no explanation why. No longer does she call at my door in the early hours and I miss her presence in my life, both romantically and otherwise. Our work relationship has been rather strained recently, and the banter that usually flies between us is lacking. Maybe people are right, and sex does change everything, or in this case lack of.

I roll my hand on the wheel of the car as I awkwardly parallel park by the kerbside. The slightly increased number of cars left me with an unusually tight spot. I stare up at Scully's family home and think about the last time I was here, when I met Brent for the first time. It'd taken some persuading from Margaret Scully to get me to come tonight. Her daughter and I were hardly on great terms, and I'm sure Brent is just delighted to have me at his girlfriend's family birthday bash. I wonder if my presence here is more for the benefit of Maggie than anyone else.

I'm greeted at the door by Mrs. Scully, who gladly welcomes me inside. She ushers me into the living room where I'm met by Bill and his wife Tara, who make awkward smalltalk with me while we wait for the others to join us. Bill seems a little more relaxed with me today, and I wonder if it's because Scully's found herself a boyfriend and in his eyes is distancing herself from me. I wonder what he'd think if he knew.

Scully enters the room, looking the picture in a slim fitted knee-length black dress that stirs a catch in my throat. When she notices me she smiles and places a hand on my shoulder, the first physical contact we've had outside of work since she left my apartment that morning four weeks ago. I hope that things are about to turn around for us.

Bill and Tara's young son Matthew peers around the door, making a clearly entertaining game of peekaboo with his parents which keeps everyone entertained for a few moments. Scully moves from her seat next to Tara to sit with me, allowing Matthew a spot with his parents.

"Thanks for coming." Scully mumbles in a genuine tone as Bill and Tara talk amongst themselves. I smile and shrug gently.

"Is Brent here?" I ask cooly, reminding her a little of the boundaries. She looks at the floor as she nods, mumbling about how he's upstairs showering. A nervousness crosses her expression and I wonder how bad her relationship has become. I quickly become vividly overwhelmed by a strong desire to protect her, not that she usually needs protecting, and have to fiddle with my hands to stop them looping round her back or reaching for my gun and running upstairs. I'd broken a promise bringing my ankle holster and weapon, and I don't think it would be a good idea to reveal that fact without good cause.

When Brent enters I make no attempt to greet him, and my mood sours further when Scully stands up to kiss his cheek, looking remarkably like a trained animal. I'm pleased to note that when she kisses him she entirely lacks the passion I saw in her last month. Recalling the nights we spent together sends a shiver down my spine and stirs a longing that I've been trying to quash. My thoughts drift back and suddenly I'm wondering how big a turn on it would be to have her tonight, while he was here. I doubt I'll get even a moment alone with her.

Maggie calls us in for dinner not long after, and I love the not-so-subtle name cards that casually seat Scully and I together and Brent on the opposite side of the table. Even now Maggie is still rooting for me. I shoot her a smile as I eye up my position on the table, and she winks in return. We scoff through two courses, managing to keep the conversation mostly on Margaret, Bill, Tara and little Matthew, who seems to brighten up the faces of his family when he speaks. I can't help but laugh at the little guy, he's rather more entertaining than his father.

When the dishes have been cleared and dessert is apparently in the oven, I notice Brent motioning to Scully and I eye her carefully. She refuses to meet anyone's gaze, pretending instead to be fascinated with the salt and pepper shakers. I put a hand on her leg under the table, rather higher than I intended, and she shoots me an awkward glance before she stands up, but her fingers brush mine in response. Brent follows suit and a feeling of dread encompasses me, one that seems to resonate in the face of Scully's mother. At least I know she's not pregnant. I think to myself sadly as his muscled arm weighs down on her shoulders.

"Dana and I have an announcement." He declares in his pompous, self-righteous voice. He nudges her and motions for her to do something. It's only when she holds her left hand out and I notice the small emerald (not even a diamond) sitting on her ring finger that I realise what's going on and my heart drops. I focus all of my energy just on breathing and staying alive, but I'm not even sure I want to. Through the congratulations that litter the table I glance up at her despite myself and she's eyeing me ever so cautiously, with hints of fear and sadness in her gaze that are just wrong to see in the face of someone who's announcing an engagement. I fight, with every shred of my being the desire to march her away and demand an explanation. Am I reading her that wrong? Is she actually happy? One glance at Maggie tells me I'm not going crazy, and the smiles she gives Scully and her fiancé are amongst the falsest I've seen. I get the feeling some strong words might be said later.

The question remains, why on earth is Scully doing this?

I fight my way through dessert and after dinner drinks, feigning my pleasure for Scully's supposed happiness and offering false congratulations to the couple. Brent grins at me smugly as he once again takes us through how he took Scully to her favourite spot and got down on one knee, and the look on her absolutely delighted face as she said yes. It's obvious to anyone that he's made the entire thing up, and Scully remains silent and distant through it all.

Thankfully, Bill and Tara have to leave early to get Matthew into bed, and Maggie retires relatively quickly, insisting that she is much too tired after all the excitement. Scully and I both know she's lying, and the pain in Scully's face when she realises she's disappointed her mother breaks my heart. I wait, not particularly patiently, for everyone to leave the room so that I can drag the sofa bed out once again, but Brent appears to have other ideas, and looks in no way ready to go to bed yet. No, he'd rather gloat a while longer and flaunt Scully in front of me. He seats himself down and Scully joins him as he flicks on the TV, casually roaming the channels in hopes of finding some sport to watch. I sit on the other couch, staring pointedly away from them both. That is, until I chance a look at Scully and see quite plainly the tears streaking down her face. What has he done to her?

I hurry over to her and kneel in front of her, gaining a disgusted glare from Brent which I ignore. I place a hand on her cheek and smile up at her, friendly concern radiating through her. She shakes off the tears awkwardly, looking a little panicked that I'd noticed, but she leans in for a reluctant, short hug.

"Alright, mate, that's quite enough." Brent states in a serious, possessive tone. I'm in no mood to fight, so I raise the palms of my hands to him and back off, resuming my position on the other sofa, careful eyes on Scully. He glances at her quickly, but is more interested in the TV. He mutters a quick "you alright?", to which she nods and makes up a quick story about feeling unwell. Her stare toward me lingers desperately for a few moments, but finally she stands and leaves the room to go to bed. Brent says nothing, switches off the television and follows her up moments later. I hate to think of the reception she'll get from him tonight.