Here's chapter 8. I know it's a little late in the evening, but better late than never, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Viorna

Disclaimer still applies

When I arrived at Mulder's door, I could hear the TV on inside and I figured that he was probably there alone. At least I hoped so. I took a deep breath and rapped sharply on the door. Inside I could hear him give a little groan, and then he picked up his pistol and walked over to answer it.

The look on his face when he saw me standing there was one of shock and curiosity, along with a little bit of annoyance. For a moment he just stood there, looking at me, and I knew he was trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound like he was glad to see me or that he didn't want to see me at all. He wanted it to be neutral.

"Scully," he finally said with a nod. Then, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in DC."

"Some things changed. Can I come in or do I have to tell you about it out here in the hall?"

"C'mon in."

I brushed past him and when my shoulder touched his chest he stiffened a little and backed away from me. That small movement made me feel lousy and hurt, but that's the way things were for the time being.

I took a seat in the chair next to the dresser and he sat down opposite me on the bed. We were facing each other and it was a little hard to avoid looking at him, so I figured I just had to do the best I could.

"Listen Mulder, something's come up and it's very important that you listen to me with an open mind," I said and a dark frown came across his face.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a little kid, Scully," he told me. There was no mistaking from his voice that he was angry with me. That made this whole thing even harder to explain to him.

"Don't get pouty with me. I have to talk to you and you better listen," I growled at him.

"I always listen to you Scully."

"Oh sure, you listen, but you don't hear."

"You know, if you have something to say, then say it. If you don't, then leave."

I had to bit my tongue, literally, to keep from saying something nasty to him. I just needed to tell him what I knew, and then I would leave. I wasn't going to get into another argument with him. I took a couple of deep breaths and sighed. Then I told him, "When I was at the airport, Rick Lawden from the crime lab called and gave me some information that had just come to his attention. According to this information and evidence that I have consequently, I believe that I know who murdered Mr. Monterale." I paused for a moment and Mulder snorted slightly and then said, "Well gee Scully, don't keep me in suspense."

At that moment I wanted to strangle him. I could plead temporary insanity. He was being so childish.

"Mulder, you aren't taking this seriously, are you? You actually think I'm just feeding you some sort of convoluted theory, don't you?"

"Course not. I would never belittle another agent's credibility or intelligence by even insinuating that any of their theories are convoluted or off the wall."

My jaw starting working as I fought not to grind my teeth. Mulder didn't have any right to make this about past disagreements. Sure, I'd called him crazy more than once, and I had done my best to persuade him that his theories were nonsense, but this wasn't about that. This was about a bona fide murder case. And we were losing time arguing.

"I came here to tell you what I found out. I am not going to stand around arguing with you. Do you what to hear what I have to say or not."

"Do tell."

"Nicole Beaumont murdered Phillip Monterale," I told him sharply. The look on his face that followed would've been almost hilarious if the situation wasn't so serious. He looked like someone had just told him he was growing a tail. His eyes opened so wide that I thought maybe they would pop out of his head and his mouth made a little 'O'.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he asked, pulling at his ear as his eyebrows reached for the sky.

"You heard me."

"This- this is wild Scully. You got any proof?"

"Do you actually think I would make something like this up?" I was incredulous that he would ever insinuate I would do something as unscrupulous as fixing evidence. It made me madder than a bull stung by hornets.

"No, course not. I'm just asking is this a theory, or do you have physical evidence to support the accusation?"

Suddenly my body sagged tiredly. I had physical evidence that Nicole and Monterale had an affair, and maybe I had physical evidence that Nicole tampered with the evidence, but I did not have physical evidence that she was the one who murdered Mr. Monterale. All I had there was a theory.

Mulder sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "What do you have?"

I closed my eyes briefly and tried to collect my thoughts. Then I told him everything that I knew and all the new evidence the crime team had uncovered. When I got to the part about me hiding in the bathroom closet behind the clothes hamper, he started laughing.

"What is so funny?" I asked snappishly. It wasn't funny to me in the least.

"I just got this mental picture of you all scrunched up behind a clothes hamper," he responded between breaths. "It just strikes me as funny. Don't worry, someday you'll understand."

I huffed and finished by telling him about the interview with Mr. McHarlin and the library books from the girl.

"We need to get to this girl before Nicole does," I told him, trying to making it clear I was going on with this investigation with or without him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We also need more physical evidence because I don't think her fellow detectives will believe something like this with what you have right now, even if the girl can tell us something."

"I know. I think the only way we'll be able to find her is through the library, but it's closed, so Nicole can't find out anything either."

We had both run out of things to discuss about the case, and now there was an uneasy silence between us. We obviously weren't going to fix our differences and there didn't seem to be anything for me to do except head for my room and get something to eat. I was starting to feel shaky.

Just as I reached the adjoining door, the room tilted crazily and I had to grab the frame to keep from falling over.

"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed behind me and then I felt his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.

"I'm fine," I assured him as the spinning passed and I could stand up straight again. I really needed to get something to eat, and then I needed sleep.

"You don't look fine to me."

"I am."

"Tell me the truth for once."

I wrenched away from him and stood glaring at him.

"What is it with you and the truth Mulder? Do you have to know the truth about everything, including me? Why? So you can stand there and hover over me; worry about me?"

I stopped, gulping for breath and right before my eyes Mulder's face drained of color. An absolutely horrified expression slide across his face and he asked in a whisper: "What's wrong? Is, are, did it…?"

For a moment I wondered what he was babbling about and then my heart jumped when I realized what he was trying to ask. I could see a naked fear in his eyes. There was no mistaking what I saw. I felt remorse for scaring him like that. I should've never come off that way. I wasn't thinking clearly.

"I'm still in remission," I told him softly and his eyes closed in relief as his shoulders slumped.

"Just don't ever lie to me Scully," he whispered.

"I'm not."

"Then why do you tell me you're fine when you not?"

"I am fine. Just because I'm tired or I don't feel real well doesn't mean I'm not fine."

"So fine means you can function?"

I gave a small, mirthless smile. I guess that's what I had always meant when I said I was fine. I nodded and he huffed air out his mouth.

"I guess I say I'm fine because I don't want you to worry about or treat me like I can't handle things. Everybody has aches and pains all the time, and I'm no different," I said.

"I know that, but I just wish you'd tell me what's wrong. Look, I know you can handle things, and I have immense respect for you. Just don't blow me off. Be honest with me."

I nodded and turned for the door, and then Mulder's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"I didn't sleep with her Scully," he said quietly and my stomach gave a strange lurch.

"What?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Nicole and I didn't sleep together," he repeated.

"Why are you even telling me this?"

"Because, I'm being honest with you."

"What you do on your personal time is none of my business," I said, my voice level and calm even though my stomach was churning. I didn't want to talk about this, at least not right now. It couldn't lead to anything good, only more arguing.

Mulder let out a sound that was cross between a laugh and a snort, and shook his head. "Since when didn't we know what the other was doing?" he asked.

"Mulder, there's nothing you have to be honest about."

"I think there is. I think that since you stumbled in on us it's been eating at you. Hasn't it?"

His hazel-green eyes were boring into me, looking right into me. For a moment I held his gaze, but the whole time it made my insides squirm.

"You can't answer that, can you? If you say yes, then it means that you're jealous, and if you say no, that means you're lying," he said with a short bitter chuckle.

He was right. There was no way I could answer his question without lying or proving I was jealous. I wanted to scream at him that he was being ridiculous, that he was crazy, that it wasn't eating at me, but I couldn't. I knew he would never believe me. Besides, I didn't scream.

My breathing was speeding up, coming in small puffs and I felt my body flush with anger when I realized what the next words out of his mouth were going to be.

"You know, silence only means that you know I'm right," he said. His face was completely serious, but I swore I could see an underlying smirk. Oh, I was mad! Now he was just goading me, seeing how far he could push me. I firmly believed he was going into his interrogator mode. Well, two could play that game.

"Why would I be jealous Mulder? What would I be jealous of? Hmm, tell me that," I challenged him, staring him straight in the eye. I hoped I could throw him off guard, confuse him by using a head-on attack, but you had to get up real early to confuse Fox Mulder.

"Gee Scully, I dunno, maybe Nicole," he countered. "Maybe me and Nicole."

He was starting to push my buttons just right, and I knew this couldn't go on. I took a deep, steadying breath and mentally told myself to calm down.

"Mulder, whether you sleep with every woman we come in contact with doesn't matter to me," I lied, the whole time feeling sick that I was. "What matters to me is that you conduct yourself professionally, and not like you have been."

"And just how have I been acting?"

"You have been acting like a hormone driven teenager: a hormone driven teenager who has no control over those hormones."

"What!"

"Ever since you saw Nicole, you've been drooling over her like you've lost control of your salivatory glands. You've been flirting with her, touching her whenever you get the opportunity, and you almost slept with her. That is not professional Mulder, it's juvenile and offensive," I said, my voice now level and cold. They didn't call me the Ice Queen for nothing, I thought wryly, when I saw Mulder wince slightly.

Mulder opened his mouth, closed it and swallowed. He looked hurt and my stomach twisted painfully. But it was the truth. I did find it offensive when he acted like that with other women. The only problem was when he touched me and flirted with me, I enjoyed it very much. Almost too much, sometimes. I was two faced.

I felt the adrenaline draining away and suddenly all I wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about my problems.

"I apologize for that," he said and I nodded. Then I turned and went to my room, but as I tried to open the door I realized it was locked. I had checked out and now I needed to go check back in. I stalked back through Mulder's room and headed down to the main office.

When I finally got checked back in the same room, I got the luggage out of my car and went up. I passed Mulder's door, hoping he wouldn't open it and try to talk to me. There wasn't anything more that could be said, not without some apologizing on my part, and also some explaining. And I couldn't bring myself to do that, not tonight.

As I lay in bed later, thinking about our fight, tears began to burn my eyes. I acted like an ice queen: cold, clinical, harsh, but I wasn't, not really. I was a woman and I like everything that any woman likes. I wanted the things that any woman wants: a nice little house, a husband, some kids, and a dog. At least, that's what every woman I knew wanted. And most of them had that; but not me. That wasn't going to happen for me.

Slowly I sank into a shallow, restless sleep filled with disturbing dreams.

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I didn't know what woke me up the next morning. All I knew was that I came awake feeling fuzzy and unrested. I really did believe that emotional confrontations were as draining or more so than hard physical exercise.

I wondered if Mulder had left already, or if he had waited for me. Either way I really didn't care. I had a numb ache when I thought about last night's altercation.

I did know though that I needed to get some coffee. I figured I would treat myself to the good kind today.

When I stepped outside my room, my heart jumped into my throat when a voice said, "Mornin'." I whirled, nearly pulling out my gun before I realized it was Mulder. As the adrenaline faded anger took over.

"What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" I hissed at him, glaring fiercely. He backed up a couple of feet and gave an apologetic shrug as if to say he was sorry. His face had a 'my dog just died' look, but the start he had given me had already put me into a bad mood, and I ignored it as I stalked down the hall to the elevator.

We didn't exchange anymore words while we got our coffee and muffins from the next door coffee shop, and I stared straight ahead when Mulder pulled out his phone and called Nicole. He told her would be following on some leads of his own, and that he would meet up with her later in the afternoon.

"Alright, where do we go?" he asked, closing his phone and returning it to his suit pocket.

"We go to the Atlanta Public Library with the books the security guards gave me," I replied. That was all we said.

When we finally got through the traffic to the library it really didn't take us too long to get the name and address of the girl who had dropped the books in the Monterales' apartment building. According to her library records, her name was Audrey Lincoln, and she was a nineteen year old, college freshman.

"So, I guess we go talk to this girl?" Mulder said as we sat in traffic behind two delivery trucks.

I suppressed a wince. It sounded to me like he was being extra cautious around me; letting me call the shots without even bothering to add his own opinion. And as much as one might think that I would like that, I didn't. I hated it. I hated it that he felt he had to step walk around me like I might suddenly blow up.

"Scully?"

His voice broke through my trance and I said, "Huh?"

"I asked if we're going to talk to Audrey Lincoln."

"Yeah, if we ever get out of traffic."

Again, we said nothing and then only things that could be heard were the sounds of the downtown Atlanta morning on the move. Suddenly our car started to sputter and cough, like it was about to stall. Mulder quickly whipped it out of traffic into a side street, to avoid a bad jam up, in case it did stall.

"Aw crap, I forgot to fill the gas tank," he muttered as the car gave one final cough and died. "Well, this puts a little hitch in our plans."

How on earth could he manage to forget to fill the gas tank? It was such a simple task! And yet somehow he managed to forget it. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something caustic.

Suddenly we both froze. Something had gotten our attention, and neither of us was quite sure what it was. We both sat still, listening, waiting, for what we didn't know. Then we heard a soft beeping noise. It sounded like it was coming from one of the front seats.

"Tell me that's you cell Scully," Mulder whispered, his eyes wide, and I shook my head.

Simultaneously we looked under the seats and then Mulder said in an eerily calm voice, "We need to get out."

My heart stopped, then started up again with a sickening jolt. I didn't ask why, just grabbed for the door handle and bolted out of the car.

The next few seconds seemed like ages, but it wasn't. Everything was a blur as we made a frantic dash down the street. All I knew was that we were running for our lives. I didn't know how far we had gotten from the car when there was a deafening blast and I glanced back. Then we were on the ground. Mulder was covering my body with his, and my face was buried in his chest, so tight I could barely breathe. I realized my hands were tightly clutching Mulder's suit, so tight that my fingernails were coming through the fabric and cutting my palms.

We lay there for a moment, with Mulder on top of me. Then he rolled off of me and we both sat up, panting. My stomach twisted when I looked back at the car. All that was left was a mass of roaring flames, leaping hungrily in the air. We had come so close to dying.

By now a crowd was beginning to gather and I could the sound of sirens in the distance. Vaguely I wondered if I was going into shock when I felt a shudder go through my body. I felt someone taking me by the arms and lifting me up from the ground. It was Mulder and he was taking me over to the sidewalk

I gave myself a small shake, trying to come out of the daze I was in, and then I looked up at Mulder. My eyes widened when I saw that his hand was bleeding. And he was trying to help me. Immediately, my doctor mode kicked in.

"Mulder, you need to sit down," I told him, gently pushing at his arms that still held me close to his side.

"No, you need to sit down," he countered.

"Mulder, you're hurt," I persisted, indicating his hand, but he shook his head.

"You're bleeding worse than I am."

"What?"

Mulder put his hand on the back of my head, just below my hairline, and then showed me his hand: it was red and covered with blood.

Suddenly I felt a pulsating ache in the back of my head, along with a sharp stinging pain as comprehension kicked in. Something must've gotten me and I just now realized it. I was lightheaded and my hands were shaking as I clutched at Mulder's arms as blackness stole my vision.