Red…. When she saw the dress in the storefront she knew she had to have it. It was a crimson colour, strapless, knee length. It's not like she needed it, or had any reason to wear it. Something about it just said to her she had to buy it. It had hung in her closet in a garment bag since that day she brought it home.

Red…. She was never one to buy bright coloured lipstick. But something about this shade of red, it drew her in. Fire it was called. It was bright, it was nothing like the usual pale pink or neutral colours she wore. But she knew just exactly what she would wear it with. So she bought it and put it in her vanity drawer, where it has sat untouched.

Red…. She was buried in a book, a classic, The Scarlet Letter. She had read this one over and over, the cover worn thin, the pages dog-eared. It had the faint smell of her mother's basement, probably where it had sat for years buried in a box of her stuff she left behind when she had moved out on her own. She was startled by the ring and the flash of red on her cellphone.

"Mulder, what's up?"

"Scully, it's me."

"I know. Caller ID, remember?"

There was a long pause

"Anyways Mulder, I'm busy. Did you need anything?"

"I was flipping through my papers on my desk and two tickets to this charity dinner fell out of a file. Apparently we are supposed to make a small appearance because it doesn't look good on the bureau if we don't. "

She remembered being asked a few weeks ago to attend by Skinner. Was that tonight? "What time?"

"Dinner is at 8. I can pick you up if you want"

"No, don't worry about it. I'll just meet you there"

Click. The line was dead. He was never one for phone conversations. She looked at her watch. 4:00. So she had two and a half hours to find something to wear, get ready, and be out the door if she was going to make it for dinner. She opened her closet door and knew exactly what she was going to wear.

The clock on her bedside table read 6:45, as she grabbed her heels, threw a shawl over her shoulder and headed out the door. She was going to have to pray for traffic to be on her side if she was going to make it in time.

Red…. The last thing she heard before everything went black was the sound of the tires on the red pickup truck skidding as it slammed on it breaks, before hitting her.

He was buried in paperwork. He almost wished he hadn't given her the day off, but after the week they had, she needed it.

"Scully, go home, get some sleep and take tomorrow off. I can handle things here. I'm just going to be organizing and doing much needed paperwork"

"Mulder are you sure?" She looked up at him overtop of a red file folder.

"Take tomorrow off, go get your hair done, or whatever it is girls do these days" he said with a laugh.

"Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me" she stood up, grabbed her coat and walked out of the office. She was a little too eager to leave, he thought.

Now he was stuck with mountains of files to sort through by himself. It was a unusual slow Friday at the bureau, no one had even been down to ask him if he had a lunch order. Skinner hadn't even called down to yell at him.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in."

"Agent Mulder, where's Scully?"

"Gave her the day off. No idea where she is. Haven't heard from her since yesterday afternoon"

"Don't forget, the charity dinner tonight. And I will know if you don't show up, I have the pleasure of your company at my table. And Mulder, dress nice. "

Shit. He had forgotten all about the dinner tonight. He picked up his phone and dialed Scully's number. He was hoping to just leave a voicemail, but she picked up on the second ring.

"Hey Mulder, What's Up?"

"Scully, it's me"... shit, dumb answer. She knew it was him.

"I know, caller ID remember?"

Why did he always end up being so awkward on the phone with her.

"Anyways Mulder, I'm busy. Did you need anything?"

Of course she was busy. Did he actually think she was sitting around at home, alone and waiting for him to call probably had lunch plans with someone. Or something great like that. Maybe she had plans tonight, and he would have to go to this dinner alone. He stumbled through his words, vaguely remembering exactly why he called.

"What time?"

Shit, what time? He looked at the tickets. "Dinner is at 8. Want me to pick you up?"

"No, don't worry about it. I'll meet you there".

Shit. She didn't want to go. She felt obligated. Hang up now, before you make the situation more awkward. Mulder hung up the phone and looked at his watch. 3 hours to somehow pull together something respectable to wear. He grabbed his coat off the coat rack, and shut the office door.