Disclaimer: Is this seriously still necessary? Has anyone ever really been sued for Fan Fiction? All right, all right, here's my obligatory spiel: Not mine. It sucks. The end.

Rating: PG…13. Probably going to escalate.

Spoilers: Heavy Fowley spoilers. The End/The Beginning, Two Fathers/One Son. Also FTF. Post-Agua Mala.

Author's Notes: Cool, didn't even know I wanted to write Scully POV until I was done with the last part. I will try to alternate now.

Feedback: I stalk my email for feedback harder than I stalked David Duchovny last year.

I have been fighting waking up for almost an hour now. I roll over once more, my hip protesting. Did I sleep in a weird position, or was it simply reminding me of my birthday? I close my eyes, trying to sleep a little longer. I open my eyes again, holding my forehead with my hand and making a pouty face. I had had over half a bottle of wine with my bubble bath last night, and I was paying for it now.

I throw the covers off of me and sit up, looking around, wishing I could sleep the day away. I move to the edge of the bed, put on my slippers and go to the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror and straighten my hair. Thirty-five years old. I make another pouty face and tsk as I lean in, looking at the small hints of wrinkles. This isn't part of my usual morning routine, but I am a woman on her thirty-fifth birthday after all. I slump, giving myself just one minute to dwell on it.

Then, I straighten my back, putting on my game face. I am thirty-five and my life is what it is. I drink a glass of water, go to the kitchen to start some coffee, then go to my bedroom to get dressed. I will go for a jog in the park. It was an unseasonably 'warm' day for February. I hated jogging, but always felt better after getting some exercise. My birthday would be a good day. No FBI, no badge, no gun. No Mulder…

A half hour later, I put my headphones in, shivering a little. I left my jacket in the car for the jog, knowing I will warm up soon. I turn it to the 80s station, my favorite running music. I smile at the Hall & Oates song they are playing. There is some music that will always lighten my mood, help me forget everything for a few minutes.

Soon I am running down the jogging path, I have it all to myself on this chilly Tuesday morning. "Well, well, well you, you make my dreams come true ooh-ooh!" I sing to myself, not a soul in sight. I laugh, I can't carry a tune under normal circumstances, and now I'm running.

I sigh when I hear commercials begin, consider changing it but don't bother. I wonder what Mulder's up to. Maybe he decided to take the day off also. Perhaps it would do him some good. I certainly needed it. The weight on my shoulders called Diana Fowley is out of the picture, for now, but I am sure I haven't seen the last of that…woman. Mulder has been a…Mulder has not been a nice guy. I am a grown woman and can take him being a jerk, but to blindly trust Agent Fowley after undeniable proof found by his best friends, the Gunmen, that something was off about her background? Her motives just stank, and her perfume didn't smell good either.

I roll my eyes as I turn a corner. 'Hello,' I think. There's a man running towards me on the trail. He's handsome. Not very tall, but neither am I. He smiles and it's stunning. He visibly slows down as he runs past me, making eye contact. I see him turn to run backwards out of the corner of my eye as I pass. I shake my head an continue on. I'm not annoyed by it as if it had been anywhere near the Hoover Building. Of course, I should be glad that I can still turn heads anywhere at thirty-five. I scowl at the thought.

I turn my head and see the man turning to look at me before he rounds the bend I just came out of. It did feel good to be checked out. Mulder has sure been checking someone out enough, lately. I scowl again at that thought. I'm not jealous…am I? Why was I even thinking of him? I feel my cheeks grow more red than the chilly wind already has them. He almost kissed me last summer. He would have, if I had not been stung. I would have let him.

I question, even now, if I should have even almost let him. Hell, especially now, given the rift that had grown between us. I am glad we had been interrupted. I couldn't imagine the fallout, and that was before the most trying times with Agent Fowley. Still, my mind drifted. I remember the moment I realized he was going to kiss me. Holding my eyes with his as he inched closer. Glancing down at my lips, back into my eyes, making sure I knew what he was about to do. Back to my lips. My lips parted for his, the rest of my body frozen. What would have happened?

I appreciated his words before that moment. God knows I did. I hung onto those words for life during the Dark Days of Diana Fowley. I smirk at my new phrase for those times. It was true, though. All I wanted was for him to keep a level head, to not let his history with her cloud his judgement. Then he had the nerve to say I was making it personal. Of course it was personal. Didn't he realize our relationship is more than partners? I am his friend! Of *course* it was personal! He nearly kissed me, then tried to push me away and acted like a complete asshole when I tried to remove his blinders. So what if I didn't like her?! That was beside the point. So what if the thought of them holding hands and smiling, no doubt reminiscing in that psychiatric facility, made me want to…punch something!

I come to a stop in my running like I just hit a brick wall. I put my hands on my knees, breathing in deeply. I hadn't realized how hard I was pushing myself. I stand up slowly with a hand on my side, I wince at the stitch developing there, my lungs burning from the cold air. I pull the headphones out of my ears, annoyed with Karma Chameleon. I usually love that song.

I walk around in a few circles, stretching against the stitch in my side. I bend and stretch my legs a few times, done with the running for today. I'm walking slowly back to the entrance of the park, to my car.

Just about the time I make it to the beginning of the jogging trail, that handsome man comes running up from the other direction. We make it to the sidewalk to the parking lot at the same time.

"Hi, I'm Chris," he says, considerably more out of breath than I am.

"Dana, hi." I am tucking my walkman away into my pack.

"Wanna go for coffee?"

He's caught me off guard. "I, uh…well. I…" I sigh. "No, thank you."

"Someone else?"

"Well," I lick my upper lip and shake my head. "It's uh…It's complicated?"

"I see…" He raises his arms, stretching his back as we walk.

"Well, not complicated like that. I mean-"

He cuts me off, "Yeah, whatever." He smirks and runs off.

I stop walking and watch him go. "O…k." I mouth, very glad I didn't go for coffee now.

I go home and take a long, warming shower. I eat a quick lunch and make some tea. I am just about to sit on the couch with a brand new book when the phone rings.

"No…" RING. "Oh, no…uh uh." I go and remove it from the charger. I answer with, "No, Mulder."

"Scully, I know you said you want to take the day off, but-"

"No 'but,' Mulder. Please! One day! Can't it wait?" I'm so frustrated. He pauses so long, I wonder if he's there. I look at my phone to check the connection before saying. "Hello?"

"Scully, please, it's important." He sounds deflated.

I sigh, a hand on my hip. I swear, I'm still considering telling him no when the word "where?" comes out of my mouth.

He's immediately hyper again. "723 Valley Road. At West 81st Street. Dress warm, we'll be outside…but, casual, we'll be here a while." He hangs up before I can get any more detail out of him. I go over to the sink and pour out the mug of tea I made.

Happy Birthday to me.