Making Up Is Hard To Do

Disclaimer: Same song, third verse. Mulder and Scully-Mulder belong to Chris Carter. This story will make no profit and does not intend to infringe upon any existing copyright.

Dana took her apron off and hung it on a peg in the break room. Lori walked in and stopped at her locker, "leaving so soon?"

"Yeah," Dana looked up from her own locker and flashed a tired smile. "It's been awhile since I've done work like this. To tell you the truth it seems like I've been on my feet for a month."

"Even a veteran waitress is worn out at the end of eight hours. I've been doing this five days a week for three and a half years now, and going to school at night."

"Wow," Dana said in shock. "And here I am complaining. Lori, is it always this busy here?"

"Yep. And let me tell you, Dana, you are the best thing for business since happy hour. Everybody wants to meet the new girl, and all the guys want to be seated in your section." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse in her locker, "want a smoke before you go?"

"No thanks. My husband is probably out there waiting for me. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure. Night."

"Night." Dana crammed her apron and nametag in her locker and shut the door. She left the break room and walked back out into the main dining area of the restaurant. There was Mulder, sitting patiently at the bar, waiting. "Sorry, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." He got up and slipped his arm around her waist. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm running a little late."

"I just got here. I had an interview this afternoon and I think it went pretty well."

Dana looked at him with hopeful eyes and a smile to match, "really?"

"Yeah. I have to take a class to get a degree before it pays anything, but I'll be reimbursed for it."

"That's great news!" She climbed in the car and waited for Mulder to walk around to the driver's side and take them home. "What do you want for dinner, Mulder?"

"I don't care, whatever is easy I guess."

"Cold sandwiches and beer it is, then." Dana rested her head on the back of the seat for the entire ride home. "Today was exhausting, but I made ninety-five dollars in tips."

"Wow! Maybe you don't need that other job. A couple of more days like this and rent will be taken care of by the end of the week."

"Yeah," she managed through a yawn.

"I'm sorry, Dana."

"For?"

He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, "for putting us through this. By all rights we should be living in the States and working at the Bureau and enjoying life to the fullest. Instead, we are hiding out in Canada until I don't even know when. If they ever drop the murder charges against me I'll have to face the wrath of your family for taking you out of the country. And the wrath of your mother for causing her to miss your wedding day, maybe you should just go on back without me now."

"No, 's'okay. Mom'll be fine."

Mulder looked over at his bride, nodding in and out of consciousness in the passenger seat. "If you say so." He let go of her hand and grasped the steering wheel tightly.

XX

After dinner, washing dishes was a joint effort and Dana began gathering laundry while Mulder tended to the garbage. "I'm going to go down and throw in a load or two of laundry. I'll be back in a little bit."

"I'll come with you." Mulder offered as he slung the garbage bag over his shoulder.

Dana still hadn't forgiven him for some of the things he had said the night before. A lot of his comments had cut her to the core and the wounds didn't promise to heal quickly. She had vowed to be civil to her husband, but there wasn't a law that commanded she forgive him totally and act as though nothing had happened because he said he was sorry. "I . . .I'd rather go alone, Mulder."

"Fine. Whatever. I'll stay here and . . .read or something."

"Okay." She grabbed the laundry basket and headed out the door.

"Are you still mad about last night?"

Dana shook her head, "I'm not mad, Mulder. I'm hurt." Feeling the tears threatening to pool, she walked out the door; carefully latching it closed behind her.

Hurt, she was hurt. He had a degree in psychology and he could help her through the hurt. Mulder closed his eyes and scanned his photographic memory for books read and memorized during his years at Oxford. No, he couldn't help her through the hurt. Not yet at least, not when the injury was so fresh and he was the cause of it in the first place.

Time, it would take time. Time is all they seemed to have in abundance but at the same time, not at all. They were working against time where everything was concerned. Finding their truth, finding a means of supporting themselves, finding their son, finding the way back to one another and the way they once were. God, why was making up so hard? They had had a hundred fights before, countless disagreements, and always some sort of resolution in the end. At least that gave him hope; they always resolved their differences. But they had never been married before and he had never said anything close to some of the things he had in the heat of the moment.

Money, if he just had the money to buy an arrangement of flowers and a nice dinner, maybe even an "I'm really sorry for screwing up so major this time" gift, he would be able to put a rush on the healing process. Nah, that's no way to fix things anyway. Not that that would fix things. And the last thing I want to do is make things worse by pressuring her to forgive and forget. Mulder thought to himself before mentally replaying their argument. "Oh man, I called her Scully," he realized out loud as if realizing he had committed the greatest of sins. "And I honestly stood there and accused her of not wanting to marry me? What kind of ass hole have I turned into?"

Somehow, he had to make things up to her. She had given up so much to be with him. She had given up so much because of him. She had risked her life so many times to help him, to save him. And what had he given her in return? In the grand scheme of things, he had given her nothing. He had given her a son that she had to give up because of him. He had given her his name only to accuse her of not wanting it to begin with. He had given her his heart only to try and take it back so many times. Now, because of him she had given up the last of her family, her job, and her freedom. And he had given her heartache and pain in return. Someway he had to make everything right again and he would if it took the rest of his life to do it.

XX

Dana had requested to be alone so Mulder grabbed a book and went to bed early. It was another hour before she came back up with finished laundry and crawled into bed beside him. Out of habit, Mulder wrapped an arm around her waist and spooned up behind her. "Mulder, please . . ."

"Sorry."

"I just need time, Mulder. Time and some sleep. Saying 'I'm sorry' goes a long way, but it doesn't make me magically forgive and forget. Making up isn't always easy."

"I understand. Goodnight, Dana."

"G'night, Mulder."

XX

It was nearly a week before things returned to the usual comfort level for the couple. "Mulder, can we talk?"

"Always." He answered, his head in the closet searching for his good tie.

"I don't like fighting like this, Mulder. You are all I have left in this world and I don't want to have a wedge driven between us." A tear slipped down her cheek, "damn," she swore. "I'm sorry I held onto the things that were said and I tried to let go. I really did, it just wasn't easy."

He closed the distance between himself and his bride. "I don't like fighting either, Dana. We have each other and it needs to stay that way, always. I'm very sorry I said the things I did, and I didn't really mean them. I know sorry doesn't change the fact that . . ."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I mention that I've got the day off?"

"No. Does that mean that I have you all to myself today?"

"Yep." Dana wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his t-shirt covered chest. "You know what the best part of fighting is, Mr. Mulder?"

"What would that be, Mrs. Mulder?"

Dana released him from her grip and wrapped her arms around his neck; pulling him down to meet her lips half way. "Making up," she whispered seductively into his ear.

"Dana?"

"I miss you, Fox." One look into her eyes confirmed what her voice and heart had said. One look into her eyes was all Mulder needed to know he had been forgiven and was very much loved and needed by his wife. He would have to finish making preparations some other time. Right now he and his wife had a reunion to attend.

To Be Continued . . .