V

It was a good three days before we had time to get back to Lauren's case. The big emergency had been a possible terrorist attack on tourist destinations in Philadelphia, but when it didn't materialize we were all released to our normal duties. It wasn't until late Friday afternoon that I found the time to pull the case file; Mulder was off God-knows-where and I had the office to myself for a change. I studied what we had, including the field report and the notes I'd taken in the car after we'd left their house. He had promised to look into getting us back out there but probably hadn't had the time yet, so I'd cut him some slack and pick it up on Monday.

I was packing my things to leave when he sauntered through the door carrying his topcoat. "So, Scully, big plans for the weekend?"

There was no way I was going to tell him that my big plans included moving my living room furniture around to accommodate the new stereo cabinet I'd bought last week and dinner at my mother's Saturday night. "Oh, you know, the usual," I evaded. "How about you?"

He shrugged, going around the desk to sprawl in the chair I'd just recently vacated. "A few pickup games, laundry, same old. You doing anything Saturday night?"

"Yeah, dinner at my mom's," I said without thinking, then two things hit me simultaneously: first, that I'd given away plans that I hadn't meant to and second, had he just asked me out in a roundabout sort of way?

"Oh, too bad—there's a Buster Keaton film festival at the retro theater downtown and I was going to see if you wanted to check it out," he said very casually. "Three of his best: The General, The Navigator, and Seven Chances. All with live organ score."

"Damn," I murmured as I zipped up my laptop bag. "I wouldn't mind seeing those in a theater. Missy and I went on a silent movie tear when I was a junior in high school and rented as many of the funny ones as we could find. She liked Chaplin, but I've always preferred Keaton and Fatty Arbuckle."

"You know, it might be playing tonight as well, want me to check?"

"Sure," I said without thinking. "I'm heading home, give me a call if they are."

He was grinning like a little boy who'd found the present he'd asked Santa for under the Christmas tree. "Good, great. Talk to you later, then."

As it turned out, the film festival was playing both Friday and Saturday nights so I ended up going out with Mulder that evening. And although I kept telling myself that it was not a date, it certainly felt that way. He insisted on treating for the movies and dinner afterwards, though I bought the soda and popcorn at the theater. It wasn't until we pulled up in front of my building at nearly one a.m. that I realized, with a shock that put a tremor through my belly, that I had been thinking of it as a date despite myself and, probably, so had he. And what did a couple do after a date?

But thankfully by the time that thought hit me, we were sitting outside my building in his car, he'd turned the engine off and it was too late to think about it. Plus it might have had me on edge all night, wondering if he'd try to kiss me goodnight.

"Thanks for coming with me, Scully," he said, turning to face me and putting one arm along the back of the seat. "I hate--"

"--going to the movies alone, I know," I finished for him, smiling. "I seem to be hearing that a lot lately."

He laughed, then reached over and tugged lightly on the ends of my hair on the left side of my face. "See you Monday morning, then?"

I realized that he wasn't going to try and kiss me or anything, and felt inexplicably let down. Completely without thinking about it, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. As I leaned back into my seat, I saw the look in his eyes, which caused another jolt in my belly. "Without a doubt. Thanks for asking me, Mulder, I had a great time tonight."

Before I could do something else crazy, I made myself get out of the car and walk steadily up to my building, but as I pushed the key towards the lock I heard Mulder call my name and looked back to see him hanging partially out the open car window. "Hey Scully—this sure beat a blind date with a pitiful stranger, didn't it?"

I grinned. "Yeah, it was a good bit less painful."

"Let's keep that in mind. See you Monday," he called, starting the car, and drove off. I spent much of the rest of the weekend, no matter what I was doing, recalling the look I'd caused in his eyes with my kiss, remembering the feel of his lightly stubbled cheek under my lips, and wondering just what kind of can of worms I'd opened.

Monday morning finally rolled around and I arrived at the office a good fifteen minutes early, but the door was already standing open. "You know, Mulder, being too cheerful on a Monday can—"

I walked in to find him standing in front of the desk frowning, an open manilla envelope and sheet of paper in his hands and a number of glossy eight by ten photos spread out in front of him. "So much for our proof, Scully," he said heavily, handing me the paper. I set down my laptop case and briefcase and took it, then looked down to see that the photos were of us, wearing coats and breathing out plumes of mist, on what looked to be a farm. Then it hit me—these photos had been taken at Doc and Lauren's place when we'd walked out to the horse pasture and back. Some were from far enough away that the entire barn was in the shot, but others were tight closeups that showed our faces clearly. Sure enough, there were several of Mulder with his arm around me, his head bent over mine and in one, his face was clearly visible as he looked down at me. It was wearing the same expression I'd seen after I'd kissed him Friday night and now caused a jolt in the pit of my belly. Had I any doubts, they were now gone: Mulder was as much in love with me as I was with him.

Not wanting to deal with that just yet, I turned the paper so I could read it.

"Dear Agents Mulder and Scully,

"Sorry to do this to you after all the trouble we put you through, but we can't continue with all the tests and all that. As much as I want to know what I am, I value our lives even more. The "people" I told you about came to see me the day after you left and threatened us both as well as our friends and loved ones if we talked to you any more, and I have no reason to doubt them.

"We just can't bring ourselves to waste whatever time we may have left in risking our lives for this, and we hope you understand. We're going away for a while, and I'm sure that if you really want to find us you can—but we hope you'll respect our wishes and let us be. Perhaps later I might contact you again (and in a more direct manner!), but for now we think it's best to just disappear until this blows over. How long that may be, I don't have the foggiest.

"Please find the photos enclosed as an apology for running out on you like this. I took them because I like you both, and hope you'll find the same kind of happiness that Doc and I have. He told me not to meddle and try to be a matchmaker, but I decided to ignore the old goat this one time. You two don't seem to know it, but you're as much a couple as we are. Enjoy each other while you can, life is just too goddamn short to take it for granted—trust me, I of all people know this so you listen to me.

"Take care of yourselves,

"Lauren MacLaine-Bryant (and Doc)"

"So that's that?" I said, disappointed but unable to find anger in myself. I liked Doc and Lauren and couldn't help but understand their predicament. "They disappear and we're left without proof again?"

Mulder heaved a sigh. "It looks like it. Next time, Scully, we carry your medical equipment, a tape recorder, hell a lie detector, with us in the damn car no matter where we're going on what type of case."

"Skinner's going to love this," I said glumly, then handed the letter back to him and looked through the rest of the photos. "What do you want to do with these?" I asked, studiously ignoring the closeup one that showed him looking at me so tenderly.

"I guess we could split them," he said slowly. "Do a playground choose, maybe?"

I grabbed one that showed me petting the brown horse while he stood nearby. "I don't mind a memory of that friendly horse." I'd never admit that it was also because it showed him in profile with his hair blowing back in the mild breeze.

He picked out one of us walking back towards the house without a word, then the phone rang and he turned away. In that split second I grabbed the one of him looking at me, sliding it beneath the first one I'd chosen. By the time he turned back I was idly sorting through the photos. Putting the phone down, he said, "That was Skinner, he wants to see us. Looks like the case of a possible killer of prostitutes at the Dirty Dames strip club has been approved for us to investigate."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," I said sarcastically. "That's not one of D.C.'s better neighborhoods."

Mulder took another photo, then tossed the two he had on the chair. "We'd better get upstairs, I'm still on his shit-list for being in your room when he called," he said, reaching up with both hands to straighten his tie. "We can finish going through them later."

"You go ahead, I'll be right there," I said as I gathered up the photos. "Let me put these away for now—we don't need anyone seeing them or the gossip mill will be in full force before we know it."

"I'll wait for you," he said, standing by the door and watching me tuck all the photos, letter, and envelope into the back of a file cabinet drawer. "Do you really think that anyone around here would think anything different than they already do if they saw those pictures?"

"I don't know," I said uncomfortably, taking off my coat and going past him to hang it on the rack beside the door.

"Do you care?" he persisted as I turned towards the door and stopped just a foot or so away from him.

I shrugged. "Not really. I stopped caring a long time ago," I said honestly. "I know what they say about us, but I also know the truth and the importance of the work we do," I added, looking up at him. "It should be pretty obvious which one's more important to me."

We gazed at each other for what seemed like forever but was just a few moments. I think in that time we said more silently than we'd ever verbally, and I knew I was showing him what I felt on my face but for the first time I not only didn't care, I wanted him to know; I was so tired of the subterfuge and hiding! And since he was doing the same, my uneasiness melted away as we communed silently for those endless moments. Seeing that photo of him looking at me had done something to me that seemed to center in the general vicinity of my heart and now it melted at the look in his eyes above me.

He slowly broke into a smile and I felt myself following suit. "C'mon, Scully, let's go see what Skinner wants before he sends someone down here to get us," he said, gesturing for me to go first and as I passed him and he fell into step beside me, put his hand in its usual spot in my lower back.

Despite having lost yet again proof of the paranormal, I was more hopeful for us and our work than ever before. I knew I probably would not see Lauren and Doc again, but I owed them a debt I could never repay and so would take their advice to heart. I was tired of fighting the attraction between us and ready to welcome whatever came next. I wasn't going to push it, but I'd recognize it and not hesitate to act when the opportunity presented itself. Come what may, I was ready.

finis