CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Dig your ditch deep enough, to keep you clear of the sun. You've been hurt more than once, you don't think much of trust. Man, it takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has. Lord, it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all."

--Dashboard Confessional, "Carve Your Heart Out Yourself"

I felt foolish while I was getting ready to go out with Mulder. I had laid out a pair of jeans and a low cut t-shirt, subconsciously wanting to look good. It struck me when I was putting on my mascara that I had been thinking of this as a date somewhere in my brain. I told myself to stop it. Mulder never took me out on a date, and he never would. That was just the way it was, and the way it always had been. I sighed aloud in the empty apartment and finished my makeup.

As I was looking at myself in the mirror, I had this terrible vision of me in my wedding dress. Just for a second, I could see the veil, I could see Rob standing behind me... God, I would've been getting ready. I would've been getting all psyched about the party and making sure all the clothes were packed for our honeymoon to Hawaii. It was going to be so beautiful. Neither of us had ever been there before. After the accident, I canceled the tickets. I decided that I'd never go to Hawaii. It was going to be our place. I wouldn't go without him.

Again confused, thinking of Rob and Mulder, both unattainable in different ways, I waited for Mulder to show up. He arrived right on time, and when I heard the knock, I walked slowly out of my bedroom. It's just Mulder, I told myself. It's just a business celebration over dinner. Inside, it was so much more than that. I was trying to take back our friendship. I was trying to stop hating him. I was trying not to fall for him. Still, when I answered the door, I had that same feeling of simultaneous hatred and admiration that I always got when I saw him.

We quickly departed, making idle conversation during the drive. We ended up in the capitol district, at what appeared to be on the outside a nice pub. It was nice inside, too, with a bar and then some tables and booths. There was a band playing, and the bar was rather crowded, but there were a few booths left. The hostess sat us down, and a waitress brought us our menus and took our drink orders.

"Whatever happened to Casey's?" I asked, wondering why we hadn't gone there. We used to go out for dinner sometimes after work, friendly dinner, later on in our partnership. We stopped going to the place that we went to for my birthday one year when Pendrell was shot there. Casey's was a little more shady than that first place, but it suited us just fine.

"Can you believe that Casey sold it?" he asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah, took the money and moved down to Florida. Anyway, they turned it into this corny family restaurant. Tourist trap, with all that shit up on the walls and everything. Applebee's meets Planet Hollywood, only the food sucks."

"That's too bad," I said, meaning it. How things change...

"Yeah. That's when I found this place. It's a lot like Casey's, so I started coming here."

"It's nice," I said, looking around.

The waitress, a young woman with springy, brunette curls, returned with our drinks. She took our orders and left with a smile. Mulder took a swig of his beer, and I sipped a bit of my wine. When I put my glass down, he looked at me and smiled.

"So Scully, what was your favorite X-File?" he asked, the grin still on his face.

"My favorite X-File?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. The coolest experience, the most fun, the funniest..."

"Hmm," I thought, racking my brain. "Well, not that Flukeman thing," I joked. "I think, that it would have to be--and I hate to admit it--that it was the one with the Great Mutato. I think. I mean, after all, its not everyday that you investigate a mutant with two mouths and a Cher obsession, and then get to see Cher yourself. It was just such a cultural stereotype...the perfect satire of our work. What's yours?"

"I knew you were having fun," he said before answer my question. "As for mine, I'd have to say it was that one in the Falls at Arcadia."

Ohh, I was going to pick that one, but felt that saying my favorite X-File was the one where I was his wife was unwise.

"Had fun living the domestic, typical white picket fence life for a while?" I asked.

"Yeah, I suppose in the end I was the one who wanted to play house."

"I could do without the garbage monster, though. Not to mention that with community rules like those, you're a little too sloppy for me to live with," I said.

"Oh, so that's why you left," he joked, but it fell flat. There was an awkward silence, so I forced a little laugh at his attempt. God, why did he have to bring it up? Why couldn't he just let me think of the old times and not remember how we fell apart?

"So..." he said, reaching for a new topic. "You look great tonight, Scully."

"Uh, thanks," I offered, dreading this path of conversation.

"How do you like the new apartment?"

"It's lovely. It's strange, when I moved in with Rob, it was difficult to get used to living in a house again. Now, though, it was easy to slip right into an apartment." Right back into routine. Right back into Mulder...

"Is it just as easy to be a G-Woman again?"

"Yeah, you don't forget the important stuff. It was nice to be back doing this. I liked medicine, but they professions are different, you know?" I said. He nodded. "It was nice to have a 'normal' life with Rob...but I guess it was nice having a paranormal life, too."

Dinner passed slowly. I was sullen, thinking of Rob and Mulder and all of the mixed up feelings that I was experiencing. Guilt, remorse, lust, hate, admiration... I didn't know which was the strongest. I didn't know what anything meant anymore. My mind kept contradicting itself, so I tried to shut up for most of the conversation. The band that was playing wasn't half bad, and every once in a while I would sing along half-heartedly to a song I knew, and Mulder would tease me.

"You haven't sang for me since that Florida incident," he said. "I spent the rest of my life wishing it would rain sleeping bags," again, the personal joke fell flat, so he quickly added, "It's rained stranger things on us, after all. Frogs..."

I smiled at that, wishing he would stop his innuendo. I didn't want to have to think of him like that anymore. I just wanted to move on. I wanted to finish this project, save the world, and move far far away. I knew it wouldn't happen, somewhere inside I knew that I was most likely stuck in DC, but I hadn't accepted it yet. Still, I can't deny having quite the mental image when he brought up that sleeping bags comment.

By the time we had finished dinner, it was dark outside. We walked out of the pub, and I began to start for the car. He stopped, however, and I noticed that he was looking up at the stars. At least, what you could see in the city. It was a very clear night, because we could many stars despite our location. He looked at me, a small smile on his face.

"It's such a beautiful night," he said.

"Yeah, it is," I agreed.

"Want to go for a walk?"

Did I? No, I wanted to go home. I felt an obligation to be grieving... God, why now? Then, a part of me wanted to go. To talk to him, to tell him how I felt. To laugh and joke with him...to remember what we had before I foolishly let my heart get involved...

"I don't know, Mulder," I said.

"C'mon, it's early. Just a walk. We could go over the plans, and just catch up."

"We caught up over dinner," I said.

"We didn't discuss the plans. I don't have a life, Scully, humor me. A quick walk, that's all I ask. Before I go home to my couch and my videos," he grinned.

"Okay. A quick walk." Since it was such a beautiful night and all...

We walked up towards the Mall, and as we approached the Lincoln Monument, I remembered the time we had stood beside the reflecting pool, after Antarctica. I always felt that I underutilized all the things that were near me when I lived in DC. It was rare that I ever admired the monuments or the architecture. I gazed at them now, appreciating them anew. You never really care about the things like that until you don't have them anymore. While I was here, I thought of them as something beautiful, but needless--I wasn't a tourist. I'd seen them once and that was the end of it. Here I was, staring at them again, maybe to appreciate them, or maybe to keep my mind off of Mulder.

We went over the plans again, still walking idly along the Potomac. Finally, the plans were all laid out and he had no further excuse to keep me with him. Still, I couldn't bring myself to say goodnight. The silence was deafening, and I was reminded of that night out on the beach all those months ago. That night that I wanted more than anything to run to him, kiss him, hold him...but instead he made me walk away. I was feeling that again. That I wanted to be with him, near him, but because of that one night, I'd never have what I wanted. Now here I was, so close to the day I would've been married, with Mulder on my mind. I let a soft sigh escape my lips.

It took me a moment to realize where we ended up. We came to a bench by the river. Not a bench, our bench. We used to meet her sometimes when we were split up as partners. Most notably was during that Flukeman case. The spot reminded me of another time when had been torn apart. What was more painful to me about this was that now we had done this to ourselves. It wasn't the Smoking Man or Krycek or Skinner who caused the chasm between us, it was our own behavior.

"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, sounding terribly serious.

"I'm just tired, Mulder," I lied.

"No, not now, I mean... What's wrong? You've been oddly quiet all night. Do you need to talk about something?"

When have I ever wanted to talk about what's wrong? "No, Mulder, I don't."

"Scully, you can tell me--"

"What do you think, Mulder? Of course something is wrong! My fiancé is dead, and I'm a week away from chasing after monsters I don't even believe in, all in the name of I don't know what, and you're wining and dining me!" I found myself yelling.

He was silent.

Embarrassed at my lack of self-control (a rare instance) I said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just..." I finally just decided to tell him, "Rob and I, we were supposed to get married this weekend. I guess I've just been thinking about him, and I don't know, being back here, with you, like this, it's all just a little much."

"I'm sorry, Scu--"

"Stop! Just stop it! Stop apologizing! It's all you've done since you came back into my life. I get it, you're sorry. I know you are. So am I. That doesn't change anything. That doesn't change what's happened. That doesn't change that I just don't know what to feel. That doesn't change the fact that I shouldn't feel this way about you." I regret the words the moment I speak them, knowing I've said too much.

"Feel what way, Scully?"

Cornered, knowing that he was on to me...knowing that he knew I was so close to falling for him, I said, "Forget it. I'm sorry, Mulder, I should go home. I didn't mean to ruin the evening." I began walking away.

"Scully, I'm your ride," he said smugly.

Although it had slipped my mind, it wouldn't stop me. "I can catch a cab."

"Don't be ridiculous," he began to chase after me. "Let me drive you home. We don't have to talk about it, whatever, you can sit there quietly, just let me be a gentleman and drive you home."

That was how the drive went. Uncomfortable silence. I caught my eyes in the rear view mirror, so cold... It killed me inside to be cold to him, when all I wanted was the warm myself with his fiery passion. It seemed as if I had to be totally closed off to Mulder, or totally open with him. He was a man of no comfortable in-betweens, and he made everything hurt so damn much. So why, then, did I feel like I was falling in love with him?

No, that wasn't how I felt. I KNEW that I always had been in love with him. I fell years ago, and I never got back up. Only someone you love can make you hurt as much as Mulder was hurting me. He didn't mean to hurt me, and I knew that I was hurting him, too. Regardless of intention, he was the man who was capable of making me fall apart. Only Mulder could do that me.

Only someone I love.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those eagerly awaiting MSR...Patience, young grasshoppers. The infiltration draws near and tensions come to a peak...but not just yet. Coming soon, a wedding day that was never meant to be, Scully's past, present, and future all blur into one with only one constant (his name starts with an M and ends with an ulder) and of course...a nice long chapter full of MSR!! Coming very soon.