Character: Dana Scully
Fandom: The X-Files
Rating: PG-13
Prompt : Claudia: Locked together in hatred. But I can't hate you Louis. Louis my love, I was mortal till you gave me your immortal kiss. You became my mother, and my father, and so I'm yours forever. But now it's time to end it, Louis. Now it's time to leave him. (Interview With a Vampire) Vol 2. Week 46 on scifi_muses on LiveJournal
Setting: Season Four Episode: Teliko

"Mulder, I swear to God…"

"Agent Scully?" It was Kim's voice at the other end of the phone line, tired and curious as Scully sat up, blinking in confusion at her alarm clock. 3:45 AM. What in the world would Skinner's personal secretary be doing calling her at this hour?

"Kim, is everything all right?" Her mind flashed immediately to the events of the previous spring, when Skinner had nearly been killed by the very man who had shot and murdered Scully's own sister.

"Yes, fine," clearly Kim was thinking of that as well, rushing to assure her. "The Assistant Director has been up all night, and I've been up with him." She hardly sounded thrilled with that. Scully wondered vaguely just how well Skinner's secretary was paid. She was sure it wasn't enough.

"He was wondering if you could come in early this morning, he would like to have a word with you regarding a potential case."

As the FBI willed, so she obeyed. "I'm on my way. Do you want me to call Agent Mulder?"

"Actually, the Assistant Director hasn't asked for Agent Mulder." There was a hint of surprise in Kim's cool manner, perhaps a trace of confusion. After three years working together with only one break in between, one usually did not see Scully without Mulder in a case.

Mulder and Scully…they were very nearly a united entity. Scully cleared her throat. "Tell Director Skinner I'll be in right away." She murmured a polite goodbye and hung up, groaning as she scrambled out of the warmth and comfort of her bed.

What sort of case was she being called on without Mulder? A part of her panicked at the idea for the briefest of moments, recalling all too well the last time they had been separated. She was supposed to be safe and sound in Quantico, performing autopsies and teaching students, and instead found herself carried off into the night by Duane Barry. She shivered as she flipped on the shower and shed her clothes, stepping inside. Perhaps her skills as a pathologist were being called upon here? It seemed the most likely answer if Mulder wasn't involved. It was likely just as simple as her performing a simple autopsy for someone. She should kick herself for such silly, frightened reactions, Duane Barry was dead, as was Gerald Schnauz, and Donnie Pfaster was locked away for life. One simple case on her own, without her partner, was not going to end up with her kidnapped yet again. That was a habit she had to break, and quickly.

Swathed in thick, cotton terry-cloth, Scully moved towards her kitchen, flipping on the coffee maker for at least one good cup before she moved out the door, toweling her hair dry as she walked. Really, she mused, why was it such a big deal that she was going to meet with Skinner sans Mulder. At one point in time she hadn't had a partner, she was simply Special Agent Dana Scully….not the other half of the Spooky Duo in the basement. After all she wasn't tied to the hip with Mulder. Yes, she was committed to the work, to his quest, that had never changed, but she really she wasn't his shadow. She was a good agent in her own right, a fine one, talented in her own area of expertise. So what if she got to let it shine just a little bit.

Why was she defending this idea to herself? What in the hell was into her?

She had been this way since the Schnauz case. It had crystallized all her silent worries she had for years now, since her return from her initial abduction. How far could she go into this madness with Mulder? What was she willing to sacrifice for it. What would he do if she were to disappear from the X-files just as suddenly as she joined, be it to marriage and family, or job opportunities, or, heaven forbid, her own injury or death? It was becoming uncomfortably clear that Scully played a massive role in Mulder's professional life. She kept him together when everything else fell apart. What would he do if she was gone?

He had no answer for her, and that bothered her…greatly.

She knew he hadn't thought about it. When she finally pressed him on the matter after her abduction by Schauz, he had balked, fled from her line of inquiry, and refused to discuss it again. There was a lot Mulder was refusing to discuss…like the conversation they had at his mother's house, now this…and there was that mysterious comment about seeing her as a mother. She scrubbed at her head vigorously, nearly leaving a burn on her scalp. She couldn't think of this, shouldn't think of this.

Things were changing with Mulder, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

She'd known for some time now, of course. After her abduction there had been a shift in their relationship, one she had little understood in those first, confusing weeks and months after her ordeal. She had been so wrapped up in herself she hadn't thought of how it had changed the dynamic of things between herself and Mulder. They she thought he had died…yet another tie that bound them together, just as their mutual grief over their lost family members had. But it was Pusher, Robert Modell that had given her the first real awareness of that shift from friendly work partners to something more…best friends. Not that she took Mulder shopping with her, or had girl talk, or anything silly or frivolous that went with a so-called "best friend. " Rather he was the first person she called when she needed it. She could trust him with her life. She could have faith he would come for her, no matter what happened.

The truth was…did she always want him coming for her?

Blow drier, clothes, she went through the motions automatically as she pondered this new line of thought. As much as she respected Mulder, marveled at his abilities, and enjoyed working with him on a daily level, he wasn't her life. And for a while now she had noticed he was becoming that way. Old friends were becoming more distant, even her ritual of family dinners was reduced to once a month meals with her mother, if she was lucky. She jumped out of bed whenever he called, no matter the hour, and gave up weekends, vacations, lunches with friends to bury herself alive in the basement, while he sorted through the pieces of an ever-growing mystery and a broken family. And while she was as a part of that mystery now as he was….did she want her life defined by it? By him?

He coffee did little to clear the cobweb of worries from her brain as she sipped at it, applying make up, trying her best to look presentable at this God-awful hour of the morning. It was perhaps good she didn't have a steady relationship or a child right now. She couldn't imagine putting them up with these sorts of hours, this amount of stress. It did make her world rather lonely.

Mulder was right. She was grumpy in the morning.

Her watch read 4:45 by the time she managed to gather her things and make her way out the door to her car. The dark of pre-dawn was peaceful, and fewer cars met her on the road as she wended her way through Georgetown towards the city center, where the Hoover Building was. She could tell Mulder she was heading in early to speak with Skinner…perhaps she should. But a part of her held back. He would find out when he came in. She didn't need to share everything with him.

This was her life still, after all. She didn't need to run every single thing she did through Mulder first. Especially not when it came from Skinner. She would let him know if she needed his insight. Let this be her case for a bit, let her figure out the angle. She was a good agent in her own right, even without the great Fox Mulder there.

She washed away the hidden guilt with a last gulp of her now lukewarm coffee.