Author's Note: So I know I usually post a chapter over the weekend, but I was out of town. This one was almost ready before I left, but it needed a little beta love from IAmLoisLane and some TLC from me before it was ready to go. Thanks for the inquiries-makes me thankful that you guys are not only still there reading, but actually looking forward to the next chapter. I'm super-flattered :) So, without further adieu... wait, or is that "ado." Anyway...

The hour-long drive from Orlando to Ocala was relatively quiet. Scully read the map and gave Mulder an occasional direction. Mulder broke open sunflower seeds with his teeth, discarding the shells out the slightly cracked car window.

"This is the exit coming up," Scully instructed.

Mulder nodded and merged right.

"Any predictions?" Mulder wondered.

"Hm?"

"About what we're going to find here. Do you have any predictions?"

"In line with your theory or with reality?"

Mulder smiled, glad she was finally warming back up to him… in her own way.

"Let's go with reality first," Mulder said.

"Okay. I think we're going to find people in mourning. I also think Eleanor Woodcomb's family was less than supportive of her marriage or else she would have been in Fairfax while her husband was sick."

"Unless their marriage was on the rocks," Mulder pointed out.

"Good point. One that leads us to a very obvious flaw in your theory."

"Yeah, I was wondering when you'd find out about that."

Scully chuckled. "That's really why you wanted to come here, isn't it? To find out how this man could get sick if he was already married to his soul mate?"

"Maybe." He smiled as he watched the road. "Or… maybe I thought you'd like to visit the happiest place on earth."

"Mulder, my bathtub isn't in Florida."

"I was talking about Disney World, Scully."

Scully shrugged and glanced down at the map, "You need to take the next left."

Mulder turned the car and waited a moment before asking, "Your bathtub, huh? Happiest place on earth?"

"Definitely."

"Been there. Done that," he said playfully. "Well, does a shower count?"

"Me in my bathtub."

"Okay… haven't been there," he admitted, but then grinned mischievously and added, "yet."

"The solitude of soaking in a long, hot bath," she explained pointedly. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away—all my everyday nagging concerns. And, finally, I'm alone and relaxed and… happy."

"So… this happiness is impossible to experience unless I somehow become you."

"Because it's my happy place. It's perfectly soothing… to me."

"And it smells good."

Scully glared at him, gauging his seriousness.

"What? I told you… I've been there," Mulder said innocently.

Scully was done being embarrassed by Mulder and his suggestive comments. If he wanted to make a joke out of everything, so be it. It was a better option than him knowing how she really felt, knowing that just the thought of him in her bathtub was a "happy place" all of its own and that she wasn't nearly as opposed to his company in such a situation as she let on.

"Turn right," Scully told him. "So, what's your happy place, Mulder?"

Mulder smiled. Time for a little earnestness again. "This is my happy place."

"Florida?" Scully asked. "Or did you mean Ocala specifically?"

"I meant this...specifically." He gestured around the car.

"Rental cars?" she asked, though she now had an idea of what he really meant.

"No, Scully. This. You… me… scouting out the fantastic in ordinary places all around this beautiful country of ours. Airports, rental cars, crappy motels, bad food…"

"Wash, rinse, repeat," she said listlessly.

"But it's not really, though. The routine's the same, sure, and I guess there's a little comfort in that, but… it's always a new adventure."

"Yeah, well, who says I'm looking for an adventure?"

"That's why it's my happy place, Scully," Mulder said with a smirk. "But it's always better when you're around."

Scully glanced at Mulder whose eyes were glued to the road and gave up nothing about the true intentions of his words. He looked over for a brief moment and offered her an honest smile, and she knew he'd meant it. He valued her professionally… but she already knew that.

Six months ago, before she was taken away to Antarctica, she'd almost walked away and left the FBI and Mulder behind, but he'd broken down in a way she'd never experienced from him. She'd previously believed he was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and in many ways that was true, but not when it came to their relationship. She'd always been the one to speak up, to assure him that she could be trusted, that she would—and had—put it all on the line… for him. That time, though, he'd reassured her.

But that time was different. That time, he'd needed her… for the endless quest toward his ever-elusive "truth." This time, he was simply saying… what was he saying? That he liked traipsing around the country, even better if she was with him? Was that really even a compliment? It felt like a compliment. No. It felt like a flirtation.

Mulder drove and tried not to look over at Scully. He'd taken a risk, but it was part of his new approach to his partner. When he felt something, he was going to share it with her. Not so much the feeling of wanting her… that was increasingly becoming a constant state of being for him, but anything else, if it came over him, he'd share. He'd done things like this unintentionally a few times over the years: proposing to her over the phone when she spewed out a pretty complete laundry list of witchcraft and wizardry during her "vacation" to Maine or telling her he loved her after she'd somehow managed to rally the troops and rescue him from the Bermuda triangle. Most other times, his confessions had to do specifically with their work relationship, but he would no longer limit himself in that way. Of course, he'd tone everything down from how it initially arrived to his brain (he didn't want a repeat of the night she had to handcuff him to her bed). For example, it was clear to Mulder that his real "happy place" wasn't just made better by Scully… it was made possible by Scully. And he just couldn't get the idea out of his head that maybe he could… replace her bathtub.

Just like any of his theories, Mulder wasn't ready to be completely forthright with Scully. What would tell her? That he loved her, and he believed she could love him back if she would simply disengage all her defenses? No. It was just like every other case he was hoping she'd crack. He'd drop her a few hints here and there until she finally saw things his way. If she put up a fight or if she challenged him along the way… he'd know everything was moving in the right direction. It was all a part of her process. Their process.

Before Scully could think any more about Mulder and his "happy place," her cellular phone rang from her jacket pocket. She pulled it out and answered without checking the caller ID. "Scully?"

Mulder winced when he heard her ask, "Mom?"