PASSING THE TORCH
Katriena Knights

Mulder didn't feel much like going home. He certainly couldn't go back to the office. He'd turned in his badge and his gun--for good this time, no more temporary discipline for him--and walked out of the J. Edgar Hoover Building with a cardboard box full of mostly nothing. At this point, just the thought of his apartment depressed him. Most of his stuff was at Scully's place, anyway, these days. But he didn't feel much like going there, either. He still hadn't gotten used to half-living there, and he would have been uncomfortable lounging around the place alone.

He should have been devastated. The X-Files had been his life for so long it should have been like losing a limb. But, even as he climbed into his car, pulled loose the knot in his tie, he couldn't help thinking it was just time to move on. The concept was so alien to him he knew he'd need some time to assimilate it all.

He drove to the bar he sometimes frequented, the place where he'd met Deep Throat and Kurtzweil. Nobody ever paid much attention to him there. Their employee turnover was fast, so he ordered a beer from a girl he didn't know, then sat at a table to nurse it, and think.

He didn't expect anyone to join him, but when he looked up to see John Doggett standing next to him, he couldn't say he was surprised.

"Have a seat, Agent Doggett."

"Thanks, Agent Mulder."

Mulder didn't bother to correct him, though he'd left the title of "Agent" on Kersh's desk along with his badge and gun. In any case, it was better than "Fox." Kersh had taken to calling him that about halfway through the reaming out that had ended in Mulder's dismissal. He was a predator, that one, always looking for a weak spot.

"Agent Scully said I might find you here."

Mulder nodded. "She knows, then."

"Yes."

"I was hoping to tell her myself."

"It's hard to keep secrets from her. She keeps her own well enough, but when you have information she wants, you might as well tell her, because she's going to get it out of you, anyway."

Mulder chuckled. "I've noticed that." He drew a line in the condensation on his beer bottle. "So, was she upset?"

"I'd say she was more relieved. I think just to have it over."

"Yeah, I know how she feels." He sipped his beer. It tasted better than usual. It occurred to him that he wouldn't have to wear a tie tomorrow. "So why'd you hunt me up, Agent Doggett?"

"To be honest, I came to apologize."

"For what?"

"For not listening to you."

Mulder laughed. "Believe me, you're not the first to ignore my rantings and ravings."

Doggett's expression lacked amusement. "But you were right."

"Now that," Mulder said slowly, "I don't hear very often." He studied Doggett, re-evaluating the man. "Can I buy you a drink, Agent Doggett?"

Doggett insisted on a soft drink, since he was still on duty, and a few minutes later they were drinking companionably. More companionably than Mulder had ever imagined he could with this man. Doggett frowned into his glass.

"I still don't know exactly what happened out there on that oil rig, but I do know this. You knew the score and I didn't. I was stupid to try to push you out."

Mulder shrugged. "Kersh wanted me pushed out." He made an arrowing motion across the table with his hand. "All the way out."

"Yeah. But if you hadn't been there on that case, I don't know what the hell would have happened."

"So what do you do now?"

"I don't know. I barely know what's going on with these cases, and you're gone. Agent Scully's leaving for maternity leave in a few weeks--" He shook his head. "I feel a little out of my depth."

"Read the files again, Agent Doggett. Take them very, very seriously."

"Yeah, I did that, right at the beginning. But I think you're right. They might read a little differently this time around."

Mulder smiled a little. He'd underestimated Doggett and Doggett had underestimated him. But after what had happened on the oil rig Mulder couldn't help thinking the X-Files were in relatively good hands. Not as good as his, but good enough.

"I owe you an apology, as well, Agent Doggett," he said then.

Doggett looked surprised. "For what?"

"For reacting the way I did when I met you. For assuming you'd taken up with the wrong side."

"It was an understandable reaction."

"Maybe, but not a particularly rational one."

"Not very many people accuse you of being rational."

He said it deadpan, but Mulder caught the twinkle in his eyes. "True. Spooky, yes. Rational, no. That's Scully's department."

"Not in my experience. All that alien abduction stuff she kept shoving down my throat . . ." He broke off, as if only then remembering how closely that "alien abduction stuff" had touched Mulder. Mulder repressed an urge to scratch his chest, where the ugly scar was gone, but the memory remained.

"She was right, too."

Doggett said nothing. Mulder watched him, thinking about Scully. He couldn't imagine what she'd been through during those months he'd been gone. Been dead. He rubbed his face--the memory of scars lingered there, as well. "I owe you a great deal, Agent Doggett."

Doggett's blue eyes flicked up. "I'm sorry?"

"It's my understanding that you were instrumental in getting me out of the dirt."

"That was more Skinner--"

"But you were part of it. You listened. You didn't dismiss the possibilities."

He didn't answer. Perhaps it was too much for him to admit right now, Mulder thought. Hardass rationalists, he knew, took a long time to come around.

"There's more, too," Mulder went on. "You were in a position to watch over the most important thing in my life, and I have to say you did a damn good job of it."

"The X-Files--"

"Not the X-Files. I'm talking about Scully. And her baby, too, for that matter."

Doggett hesitated. Probably weighing the implications, Mulder thought. He was past caring what assumptions anyone made about his and Scully's relationship, though. The two of them knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

Finally Doggett said, "It took her forever to tell me about the baby."

"She's like that. But you took care of her, watched her back. There's no way I can repay you for that."

Doggett studied him, his frown deepening. "Scully's baby. It's yours, isn't it?"

Mulder shrugged. "Why? Just prurient interest?"

To Mulder's surprise, Doggett smiled. "Hell, I was hoping I could get an edge in the office pool."

Mulder laughed. "Well, take my advice and don't put your money on Skinner."

"He's a long shot, anyway."

"As well he should be."

Mulder finished his beer. It was time to go home. Maybe he could move some more of his stuff into Scully's apartment, spend the night there again. He didn't think she'd mind. Too bad, though, about her educated medical opinion on sex during this particular pregnancy. He pulled out his wallet and extracted a handful of bills. "That should cover the drinks," he said, then held a five out to Doggett. "I want in on that office pool. Put me down for artificial alien insemination."

Too serious, Doggett took the money. "Is that what you really believe?"

"It's more likely than Skinner." He smiled, standing. "No, that's not what I really believe, but it should keep 'em talking." He slapped Doggett companionably on the shoulder. "Good luck, Agent Doggett."

"You, too, Agent Mulder."

END.