"What the hell is Skinner thinking? This is a waste of our time and expertise! There's no X File here. It's simple surveillance work that a couple of rookie cops could handle easily- a drug bust for christsake!" Mulder exclaimed in exasperation as he threw the file on the desk and paced around their basement office. They had been back at the Bureau for a week and had basically just been filling out paper work every day, since no cases of interest were surfacing despite Mulder's constant digging. Their moonlit kiss the week before had not been mentioned; no two individuals succeeded more at the "ignore-it- and -it'll- get –easier" game like Mulder and Scully.
Scully sighed and struggled to keep her eyes on her exuberant partner as he bounded about the room. "Mulder, calm down. It's not like we have any other cases to be working on now, anyway. Skinner said no other agents could be spared. And drug trafficking is a federal crime."
"Okay fine. Well if we're really being shipped to New Orleans for the weekend to just sit and watch a building, then I'm conducting my own investigation."
"Investigating what, exactly?"
"The spirit of the Voodoo priestess Marie Laveau haunts the French Quarter and Jackson Square, you know. She died in March, so guess what month has the most sightings? And, even better, she was hanged exactly 200 years ago last week!"
"Mulder, please. For once, just once, can we have a simple, no-nonsense, open and shut case that doesn't involve dredging up some myth or creature or conspiracy?
"What would you rather do? Really, I'm open to suggestion. We could check out Bourbon Street, I hear there's great beer, or watch some shows in the square, or hey, how about a lovely Greyline tour?" he quipped sarcastically.
Scully shook her head and sighed loudly, knowing all to well the pointlessness of debating him during one of these moods, so she silently rummaged through the desk for a pen to finish the follow up research on her last field report. Unable to locate a writing utensil, she stood, dodged Mulder's stomping course, climbed onto the other side of the desk, and wordlessly reached for a pencil that dangled from the ceiling.
"Mulder, I can't hear myself think with the Knicks game blaring. Turn it off!"
"No, I think your hearing difficulties are due to the torrential downpour outside, not the radio. And what do you have to think about anyway? We're sitting in a parked car gawking at an abandoned apartment building like we're waiting for it to move or something. Nope, not much thought required in this assignment."
Scully hurled him her classic "cross me and die" glare, leaned forward to switch the button off herself, and continued perusing the stack of papers in her lap. She flipped through the mug shots of the Russian mafia members who had apparently set up an illicit substance business in the Big Easy. A large group had been arrested several years before in Brooklyn, and those that escaped or were lucky enough to win parole had moved the operation to a new southern market. Mulder and Scully's assignment was to stakeout what was believed to be one of their centers of commerce. So far, after six cups of coffee, nine hours of talk radio, and the partners grating on each other's nerves with Mulder's pouting and Scully's irritability, no conspicuous activity had been observed.
"Come on, Scully. This place is dead; nothing's happening-they probably knew the cops were onto them and I bet they switched venues a week ago. At the very least let's just take a break. Please. I can't handle another hour in this car. We should go exploring or sightseeing. I mean, we're in one of the most fascinating cities in America, not to mention one of the most haunted. Live a little."
"We've discussed this. Multiple times. I did not come here to go on a ghost hunt with you. Our assignment is to watch this building, and while it may not be the most amusing activity on the planet, it's what we're being paid to do- to catch these people. If we leave, we risk missing a lead, and we can't afford that." Scully struggled to keep her voice steady to cover the prominent traces of frustration. Typically Mulder's rants and unwillingness to follow protocol did little else except amuse her. She was usually up for indulging him or winning a game of Devil's Advocate; Scully prided herself in her ability to bludgeon anyone's ass at logic. So one day in a parked car with her eccentric partner shouldn't drive her batty to this degree. After all, he was her best friend if nothing more; so she wondered why she felt the need to yell or cry, or maybe shake him a little.
"Fine Scully. You do what you want, but I'm taking a stroll." He unlocked the door and grabbed the handle, but not before giving her his best "don't you want to come play" smirk.
"Bye Mulder. Walk around aimlessly in the pouring rain if you really want to." He shrugged, reached into the backseat for the umbrella, and slammed the door at his dramatic exit. Why do I feel like I'm babysitting? She questioned herself in exasperation. And why can't we just talk about our feelings like two normal human beings? I'm sick of this passive aggressive bullshit…What if he regrets what happened, and that's why he's avoiding the issue? Scully reached for the door handle and quickly restrained herself. No, I will not give into this. I will sit here and do my job. She glanced back at the abandoned building. Oh hell.
Mulder slowed his gait and surreptitiously threw glances over his shoulder to see if the plan was working yet. After seven years, he had become quite an expert at pushing her buttons when necessary. Honestly, he wasn't as ticked off about this case as he let on; if nothing else it allowed for time alone with Scully, which he knew they needed. There were things to discuss and decisions to be made that the two of them wouldn't actually instigate unless they were thrown into a situation with nothing else to do. He'd been trying to get her out of that damn car all day.
"Mulder, wait a minute!" He turned, feigning surprise at the slam of the car door and the sound of her little feet scurrying over the pavement for the shelter of his umbrella. Victory! he thought. "What are you doing?" he said.
"What are you doing? Don't tell me strolling around North Rampart Street at midnight in a thunderstorm. You're avoiding me."
"I think the weather's lovely." Nice Mulder. Spoken like a true smartass. "Avoiding you? Uh, no, actually Scully, if you'll remember correctly, I've been trying to get you to come with me."
"Well then tell me where you're going."
"Jackson Square. To look for Marie Laveau," he said nonchalantly. Mulder walked brusquely as he spoke so that Scully had no choice but to keep up in order to stay under the umbrella.
"Alright. If you want to play Ghostbusters, I suppose I'll follow you. Just like always."
Mulder hesitated, but forced himself to keep going. The hint of bitterness in her voice disturbed him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're always running, Mulder. Always chasing the next phantom, and for seven years, I have trailed after you, struggling to keep up. Do you ever wonder what you're really trying to escape from? I mean, you can't say it's about finding something anymore. You have the answers- your Truth with a capitol 'T'."
Mulder felt his face grow hot, and desperately tried to keep his temper in check. "You think I should just abandon my work because now I know Samantha is dead? She may be the reason I started working on the X Files, but it sure as hell doesn't end there. I may have found the answers about the conspiracy and even colonization, but that's only the beginning. Now it's about gathering evidence and proving what I've discovered in order to prevent these things from happening."
"No. That's not what it's about. Marie Laveau, Mulder? You're acting like a child- chasing some fantasy for kicks and calling it legitimate investigation-running from what's really happening in your life. You focus on the future and what you can do to change it, but what about now? What about your life and your feelings? It's not all about the work, Mulder- don't tell me that. You're running away from me. From us. From what's happening."
"Scully if you're going to talk about hiding from emotions, then you'd better work on yourself first. You've never been honest with me about how you feel. Whenever I want to help you or get close to you, you just say "I'm fine, Mulder" and then push me away. If I'm avoiding something, then you're just as guilty." Arguing with Scully was not part of the master plan, but once he got started, Mulder couldn't stop himself.
"Well, let's be honest now… Ok, the kiss. I want to discuss the kiss. You-we've-been pretending it never happened. Where did it come from?" she asked.
"You're acting like this is a one-sided thing. You kissed me back."
"Fine, but you initiated it, and I want to know why."
"I'm sorry it's so repulsive to you now." He said through gritted teeth. Mulder knew he was being unfair and was purposely dodging honest questions, but he was frustrated at his inability to convey his feelings and motives in words. She had to know he loved her- after all of this time, after all they'd been through together, why was she questioning him and accusing him of avoidance?
"Stop it! That's not what I'm saying and you know it!"
Mulder turned his head away from her and sulked silently. He allowed his gaze to travel to the top of a steeple against the murky sky. At some point in the conversation, they had arrived in Jackson Square and now stood in front of the ancient cathedral. The raindrops continued to pound from the heavens in heavy sheets. A powerful gust of wind blew the umbrella inside out, and several metal spokes were bent beyond repair. Mulder was left holding the remnants of their shelter in his hand as he and Scully became soaked from head to toe. Neither of them seemed to notice.
"Grow up Mulder. Stop turning this into a fight."
"You brought it up! You know Scully, you can be a bitch…" As soon as the words escaped his lips, he would have made love with the flukeman to take them back. Scully, obviously hurt, stood speechless. He saw a crinkle between her brows, and for one horrifying moment, he thought he might have made her cry. She quickly composed herself in true Scully fashion, turned away from him, and slowly began to walk in the direction from which they'd come. She stopped, and said quietly so that he had to strain to hear,
"Mulder, you've always told me you could trust me because I tell you the truth. Well, the truth is- I think you're afraid of what you feel for me. You don't want to be hurt and you don't want to risk change, so you run. I'm done chasing Mulder. Goodnight."
When she turned once more to continue her solitary journey back to the car, they both heard it. The distinct cocking of a revolver echoed through the empty square. Both agents reached for their weapons a moment too late. A shot rang out from the north side of the square before they could get their bearings enough to dodge the bullet. Scully sucked in her breath sharply and then she stumbled, dazed and wavering, but she didn't fall. Mulder moved so quickly that he stopped thinking, and he was sure his heart stopped beating as panic deflated the air from his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to steady her shaking body and pressed his palm against the upper left side of her torso between her breast and shoulder where the blood flowed. She tried to stay conscious as her eyes began to lose focus, and she finally slumped against Mulder's body, her head lolling against his chest. "Scully-Scully stay with me. I'm gonna get you to a hospital and everything will be fine. Scully…SCULLY!"