"Here you go," Mulder said and she smiled.
"Thanks," she said softly, accepting the glass of iced tea he offered and taking a small sip.
He nodded and poured himself a glass, drinking it halfway down in a couple of gulps. Wiping his mouth, he smiled at her and then took another drink, refilling his glass when it was empty. She smiled as she watched him, still feeling that sadness, but trying to push it away.
"I uh… I need to take a shower. I'm very sweaty and I'm sure not the most pleasant smelling," he said apologetically with a chuckle.
"I don't mind, but if you want…"
"You won't leave?" he interrupted quietly and her heart ached.
"No," she whispered. "I have my tea to finish." She smiled sadly and he nodded.
"Let me top it off then," he said, pouring in tea until it was near the top and she laughed softly. "That should last you for a while."
"Go. Shower. I'll be here," she assured him. "I have to be careful now." He nodded, setting his glass on the counter and the pitcher back in the fridge.
"I'll be quick."
"Take your time."
"So you're admitting it. I do smell."
"I admitted nothing." She smiled as he narrowed his eyes at her. With a nod, he walked past her and she let out a breath. "I admit it now."
"I knew it," he said as he started up the stairs and she laughed softly.
She heard him walking around upstairs, the floor creaking in all the familiar places. When the water began running, the pipes made it known, popping occasionally as the water warmed up.
"God," she whispered, tears in her eyes as she shook her head. Letting out a deep breath, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and took a sip of her tea.
Walking slowly around the house as she drank and waited for him, she allowed her thoughts to wash over her, differently than they had in the car.
Looking down at the rug, she smiled at the wine stain she could not see. She smiled at the curtains, thinking about the struggle they had to put them up; her needing the step ladder and him simply raising his arms to hang them. He had said nothing, but his laughter had been enough.
The couch, something they had purchased together, had been carefully considered, Mulder making sure it was long enough, the back high enough. It was her turn to laugh softly as she demonstrated how she could fit on any of them comfortably as he grumbled and shook his head.
His desk… the sight of it in the middle of the living room still made her feel uncomfortable and uneasy. It was a giant reminder of how far things had gone and driven them apart. It felt like it was his house now, though it was her home.
Their home.
It was still their home… it was just…
The water stopped running and she cleared her throat, shaking her head as she took a drink of her tea, the glass still nearly full. The floors creaked again and she closed her eyes, seeing his movements in her head, knowing the layout of their bedroom by heart.
Dresser. Closet. Bathroom. Back to the dresser.
When she heard him at the top of the stairs, she opened her eyes and smiled as he walked down. His hair was still damp and the scent of his soap following him into the room, pulled the breath from her lungs, the familiarity of it too much.
"Still good with your tea?" he asked in a teasing tone, walking into the kitchen to get his own glass.
"Mmhmm," she hummed, bringing the glass to her lips, swallowing down another lump in her throat. Taking a small sip, she watched him as he took another big drink.
He looked at her as he held his glass and licked his lips. She could feel him thinking and she smiled, which became a quiet chuckle, causing him to tilt his head in a silent question. She shook her head and he nodded, not pushing her for an answer.
"I know you're curious as to why I was sitting out in my car at the end of the driveway," she said quietly and he shook his head.
"I don't need you to tell me if you don't want to," he said and she exhaled with a nod.
He knew. He had to know. But she wanted to tell him. Wanted to start pushing forward.
"I… I heard this song earlier and…" She shrugged and looked down at her glass. He remained quiet and she took a deep breath. "I was thinking about when we first moved in here." Raising her head, she smiled at him. "Painting it."
"Hmm," he said with a nod as he looked around. "It always sounds so easy and exciting, a change being made, and then you realize how hard it truly is and you hate it."
"Absolutely," she said with a grin.
"But we got it done. Still looks good. Held up well."
"Yeah… it did."
Better than us, she thought, not needing to say it, knowing they both felt it. He let out a heavy breath and nodded, leaning against the counter.
They were quiet for a few moments, both of them lost in their own thoughts and memories.
"Remember that bowl your mom sent leftovers home in?"
"The one that was so ugly?"
"And when you told her, she was so taken aback."
"That's antique glass, Dana," they quoted in unison and then laughed.
"It may have been antique, but it was ugly," she said with a smile.
"God, yes."
Quiet again, she sighed and took a drink, the glass now half full.
"Do you want something to eat?"
"No, the tea is fine. It's late."
"Late, Scully?" he teased and she nodded with a small smile.
"For most normal people it is," she retorted and he chuckled.
"You're out at this late hour. Seems you hit yourself with that statement."
"Mmhmm. I realize that now." He laughed and nodded, pushing away from the counter and walking toward her. Suddenly feeling nervous, she took another drink, the glass emptier now.
Stopping a few feet from her, his scent hitting her as he stared, she felt like crying, breaking down and telling him everything. How she missed him, missed the way he laughed at stupid jokes in movies, how he felt beside her in bed, and how he loved her.
God, he loved her so much. She knew it. She did. She just needed to know that that love was enough this time. It had been in the past, it had to be, but now… now it was different and she just needed… more.
But more of what, she did not know. Could not pinpoint. So until she could, she needed to have that distance, even as she ached daily for the closeness.
Taking another drink, the glass nearly empty, she smiled and let out a breath.
"You want a refill?"
"No… I should get going. When the glass is empty."
"Hmm," he hummed, and stepped closer, handing her his glass which was more than half full. "Could you hold this for a second?"
She took it and then to her surprise, he took hers and held it, not switching them back.
"You didn't specify which glass you meant."
"No, I didn't," she whispered and again she wanted to cry. To throw herself into his arms and be held by him. To hear his heart beating under her ear and his chin resting on the top of her head, fitting together perfectly as they always had.
They stared at each other and she shook her head, taking a drink from the glass, his tasting sweeter, though she knew it was impossible. He smiled and she tried but knew it looked as forced as it felt.
I miss you, she wanted to say. I miss this house, this life. I miss US.
"Scully," he said and she shook her head, swallowing her words down.
"Yeah?"
"You sure you don't want anything? We could watch a movie… whatever you want." She sighed and shook her head, taking another drink.
"No. I… I should…" She drank the rest of the tea, keeping her eyes down, knowing he had thought by switching glasses, it meant she would be staying longer. "I should let you get to bed or…" Looking up, she saw the disappointment on his face, though he tried hard to mask it.
"Yeah. I suppose we should try to be more… normal," he teased and she smiled, tears threatening to fall.
Go, Dana.
She handed him her glass and he nodded as he held them both in his hands, his eyes sad. She cleared her throat and nodded with a deep sigh.
"Thank you for the tea."
"Thanks for stopping by…"
"Yeah…" She nodded and moved toward the door, tears clogging her throat.
He said nothing as she opened the door as she knew he would not. Whatever happened, however they moved forward, was on her now and she knew it. He would wait, and for that, she loved him more than ever.
He would always wait for her.
"Hey," he called gently from the doorway, the glasses still in his hands as she turned to look at him, tears burning her eyes. "What song was it? The one that you heard and brought you out here so late?"
"I'll… I'll send it to you," she replied softly and he nodded.
"Goodnight, Scully."
"Goodnight, Mulder."
She got in the car and started it, not looking at him until she began to back up. He waved a glass filled hand and she raised a hand in goodbye.
Driving down the driveway, she pulled over when she knew he could no longer see her and let her tears fall.
When she calmed, she unlocked her phone and found the song. Copying the link to it, she sent it to him and then put her phone on silent and do not disturb for good measure. She did not want to see his response to it until she was home. Putting the song on repeat, she listened to it many times, thinking of him doing the same.
When she pulled into her parking spot, she turned off the car and took a deep breath. Picking up her phone, she saw she had a message from him.
Just one.
But it was all she needed, tears falling silently as she read it.
With each year, our color fades. Slowly, our paint chips away. But we will find the strength, and the nerve it takes, to repaint and repaint and repaint every day…