A/N: First, something long overdue: thank you to all my readers! Thank you so much for taking times out of your days to read through my stories! Even if you don't review, I love seeing "Visitor" hits on my profile page meaning that a good number of you have taken an interest in my writings! And if you feel so inclined, please do review! I love the feedback-whether good or bad.
Thanks goes out, as well, to ThexInvisiblexGirl, who has helped me monumentally in mapping out the future of this story as well as inspiring numerous one-shots through her own writings or our frequent conversations.
For those in the U.S. or elsewhere and are celebrating, Happy Thanksgiving!
And finally, to end on a plot-related note. In the last chapter, I noted that Scully did not consummate her relationship with Daniel Waterston. I did this purposefully because Gillian Anderson voiced that in the original draft of her script for "All Things," she intended to make it clear that Scully and Waterston had never actually had an affair.
And now...Part 2.
Last time on Keeping Grounded...
Mulder stretched an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him affectionately.
"You did good, Scully. Now we just have to help Dr. Waterston get the picture." He released her, and she stepped across and hall and to Daniel Waterston's closed door. She took a breath and opened it, peering in.
Daniel Waterston sat upright in his hospital bed staring at a little TV hung in the opposite corner of his room. A football game was on, and the volume was set fairly low. A single IV poked out of his arm connected to a drip bag hanging on a stand beside his bed. Otherwise, he looked in fine health. Scully suspected he would be discharged any day now. He glanced over to his opening door and an expectant smile broke across his face.
"Ah! The prodigal's son returns—or should I say daughter," he greeted. "I knew that talk last night was just talk." Scully remained in the doorway. She sensed Mulder a few paces behind her, thankfully out of Daniel's sight for the moment.
"Hello, Daniel," she returned in a neutral tone, only allowing the ghost of a smile to cross her face.
"Well, come in!" He beckoned her over. "Have you changed your mind about my offer?" Scully remained resolutely in the doorway for a moment longer.
"I came to make an introduction, actually." At Daniel's puzzled face, she finally stepped inside, holding the door open for Mulder as he followed her. She walked nearer to Daniel and gestured to her partner. "This is Fox Mulder, my partner of the last seven years in the FBI."
"Good afternoon, Dr. Waterston," Mulder greeted politely, moving forward to shake the older man's hand. Daniel offered a cool smile, and respectfully accepted the gesture. "Scully has told me a bit about you." He glanced over at her briefly. "She says you were an excellent instructor." Daniel shot a warm smile towards her. She could sense he was trying to size Mulder up—determine if he was a threat. She also suspected Daniel was wondering why she had brought Mulder with her in the first place. It was an admittedly strange decision on her part, and while it was perhaps inherently cruel to both men—her old lover and current partner meeting under such circumstances—it was the only way she could think to pressure Daniel to let her go and learn to live life for himself.
"Not being modest, I hope, Dana?" Daniel suddenly questioned her amicably. He looked back at Mulder. "She was a very ambitious student." Mulder nodded agreeably.
"Well, she's an ambitious agent. Saved my neck probably a dozen times, at least. One I'm proud to call my partner." A silence settled on the room for a moment. Scully watched Mulder, a bit surprised at his compliment. While he was an affectionate man and certainly cared for and respected her, he didn't often talk of her in such a way. She presumed he was on his best behavior given Daniel's presence; it reminded her in a way of how he behaved when her mother was around. Ever-polite and quick to praise.
"Well, tell me of yourself, Fox," Daniel mature voice cut into the quiet. "Obviously Dana has told you of me, but I know nothing of you. And it seems she wished us to meet for a specific reason." He was fishing for information, Scully suspected. Who was the tall, youthful stranger Scully had brought to him? More specifically, who was he to her?
"Maybe to swap life stories at her expense," Mulder joked lightly. Scully had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. She had to remember that Mulder was incredibly nervous, so he was acting uncharacteristically unlike himself; she hoped that as the conversation progressed, he would fall back into his typical boyish mannerisms rather than the rigid, awkwardity he presented then..
"You know me all too well, Mulder," Scully interjected to try and ease the tension she sensed in the room. "I want nothing more than two influential men of my past to discuss all my most humiliating moments in life." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.
"We'd do no such thing, Dana," Daniel countered chivalrously. "A beautiful woman should never be made fun of." He reached out for her hand. Scully quickly caught Mulder's eye before allowing Daniel to take it. He patted it affectionately and held it between the two of his.
"I stand corrected," Mulder replied with a respectful nod. "You are right, sir. I suppose the years of working with Scully have made me ignorant to such norms."
He captured Scully's eyes with his, and she saw something there she rarely if ever saw: insecurity. She wondered if it was because of Daniel's touch, but Mulder wasn't that overly sensitive. It seemed to derive from Daniel's words, as if Daniel's petty attempt to impress her had imparted some new fact to him. Something he should have been aware of long before. And because he was ignorant of that fact, his relationship with her was in question—it had lost some of its meaning.
Or perhaps she was seeing too much in a simple nervous glance from her partner. She'd intentionally put him in an entirely awkward position—forcing him to confront a former lover on her behalf. He was bound to be floundering as he tried to ascertain how to best go about his role. She nodded at him encouragingly, but she couldn't determine if that had helped him at all.
"Mulder and I work for a division of the FBI specializing in the investigation of unexplainable phenomena," Scully said, turning back to Daniel. He furrowed his brow disapprovingly.
"Such as what? Ghostly apparitions?" There was a note of levity to his tone; no doubt he thought he was being funny. Scully meant to respond, but Mulder beat her to it.
"That's one variety of phenomena, sir. We've also had cases concerning mythological beasts, superhuman abilities, and previously undiscovered parasitic organisms, to name a few." There was the Mulder she knew so well, talking nonchalantly about discoveries that only belonged in comic books, science fiction, and fantasy novels. Daniel's mouth fell open as he was struck speechless. Scully had anticipated such a reaction; most people were not so open-minded and accepting of their work on the X-Files, and she had expected the older, reputable, no-nonsense Daniel Waterston to be of that sort. Finally, he grinned, looking between Mulder and Scully amusedly.
"You're joking? This is some sort of obscure prank." Mulder shook his head.
"No, sir. Scully and I undergo investigations into the paranormal." Daniel stared and Mulder, perturbed, and turned back to Scully for confirmation.
"Dana?" he asked as if hoping she would refute her partner's claims.
"Mulder's right, " she said firmly with a nod. Years and years ago, she would have confirmed that fact with profound embarrassment, but now with all that she had seen, she was proud of the work she and Mulder accomplished on a daily basis. Daniel was at a loss for words, though.
"Y-you run about pretending your Van Helsing or some kind of Ghostbuster?" Perhaps unconsciously, he pulled his hands from Scully's and she deftly drew hers back.
"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "We learn of a case and investigate it as any other law enforcement agency would; we visit crime scenes, collect evidence, question witnesses. I frequently perform autopsies on victims. Together, we postulate how and why the crime occurred and try to find a culprit. Both Mulder and I then write a report which we turn into our superiors."
"Our division originates from the cold cases that were stored away over the years since the establishment of the FBI by Hoover, so a number of our cases often reference back to those previously incomplete cases," Mulder added unhelpfully. "Sometimes even further back." Scully shook her head imperceptibly. She had just wanted to lay down the groundwork for Daniel, but she expected Mulder wanted to show off in his own way—to toy with Daniel some. At least it was better than his constant nervousness.
"And what conclusions could you possibly draw from such investigations?" Daniel directed the question at Scully, probably having deemed Mulder a madman. Scully took a moment to consider her answer. Finally, she replied.
"That...there are things in this world that I don't understand and probably won't ever. I've seen things that I could only ever dream of."
"You sound like some new-age spiritualist," Daniel remarked uncertainly. "And that's why you arranged that voodoo ritual for me the other night?" he asked, realization dawning on him. Despite his cordial tone, contempt still coated his words.
"I didn't know if it would work. I'm not sure I even completely believed in it," Scully admitted. "But I thought it was a chance we couldn't pass up."
Daniel had been at death's door when his EKG went on the fritz, his heart rate spiking before abruptly flatlining. He was absolutely gone, and on Scully's insistence, he had been brought back, though not exactly in the state she wanted. A coma wasn't living, and there was slim chance that he'd pull out of it. So she turned to something only her sister Melissa would have seriously considered: a spiritual healing ceremony. And somehow or another, it had worked: Daniel was alive and well in front of her against all her expectations. Scully wondered if she had Melissa to thank for that.
"So you've turned your back on medicine because of these fantastical cases you investigate?" He was clearly disappointed, seeing her as a turncoat to the cause. His prized student of all people! It was a blow to his immense ego at how she had abandoned his ways. Scully knew he would take it personally, so she quickly sought to calm him.
"Far from it, Daniel," Scully quickly replied. "I try to bring the keen eye of science and rational logic to the cases we investigate."
"Scully been nothing but pragmatic and realistically-minded since we were partnered," Mulder intervened. "She's always reigning in my purportedly obtuse theories. I've always just assumed that I'm more imaginative than she is." He smiled teasingly. While Scully was happy to see that he'd regained his sense of humor, Mulder's quip couldn't have been more ill-timed. Daniel could be hot-headed, especially when he thought someone was making light of what he considered a serious matter. And he was obviously less than pleased with Scully's change of character over the last decade. That might be just the thing to push him over the edge. She prepared for the onslaught.
"You filled her head with this claptrap?" he said to Mulder. "These wild fantasies that sound like the drug-induced ravings of an addict?" Mulder's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected accusation. Scully's stern gaze met his for a brief moment. She hoped he could keep his cool; it was a toss-up with Mulder.
"While I believe in the existence of the paranormal, I've not forced my beliefs on Scully," Mulder said in his neutral monotone. "Her thoughts have always been her own." Daniel chuckled cynically.
"And this business of calling her 'Scully.' You don't even have the respect to call her by her given name? Do you think that low of her?" Daniel had transformed into his possessive, bull-headed self. He had assessed Mulder as a threat and was going on the offensive. One glance at Mulder told her he was starting to get angry, too. Scully wanted to prevent any big, explosive argument from happening. As Mulder opened his mouth to reply, she quickly cut him off.
"Daniel," she said, "Mulder and I have nothing but respect toward one another. He and I decided long ago that we would refer to each other by our surnames, and it's not for lack of respect."
She decided against explaining to him that Mulder had decided to call her "Scully" within minutes of meeting her, most likely an attempt to get under her skin since he supposed her to be spying on him on behalf of nefarious shadow-people lurking in the FBI. Nor did she feel the need to note that Mulder specifically requested he call her by his surname because of the contempt he felt towards his own given name. Other women were given leave to call him "Fox," though: his mother, her mother, past loves like Phoebe Greene and Diana Fowley. Only she was exempt from that list, and Scully couldn't help but wonder why. Was it to ensure that they were placed on equal ground as partners-that neither of them was held above the other? Was it because he never felt he fit his first name-and while he was alright with others knowing him by "Fox," he wanted Scully to know his true self as "Mulder," his preferred name?
Daniel Waterston's voice sliced through her contemplations.
"Though he obviously considers you a weak, malleable woman given the nonsense he's fed to you!" he countered in response to her previous comments. "I find that nothing but disrespectful! What happened to the brilliant, rational Dana of years past? The one that I taught all those years ago?"
"She is still the analytical, level-headed Dana Scully," interjected Mulder icily before Scully had a chance to reply. "She goes unparalleled as a scientist, an investigator, and an individual. In my twelve years as an agent for the FBI and forty years of living, I have never met a woman more capable than Dana." Scully picked up on Mulder's distinctive use of her first name. She ventured he did so because of Daniel's prior critique, a sort of verbal counter to Daniel's scathing words. "She has risked life and limb on numerous occasions in my incessant pursuit of the truth; she has sacrificed more than anyone humanely should in my quest; and she has saved my life in more ways than one. So I ask you, Dr. Waterston, to refrain from passing any sort of judgment on the relationship between me and my partner because it's ultimately none of your damn business!"
Mulder breathed deeply, spun away from the hospital bed, and ran a hand over his face. Scully risked a glance at Daniel. His mouth was agape once again. Being such an experienced, well-respected man in the medical field, he was not in the least bit accustomed to being reproached. More often than not, his word was law and no one sought to start a dispute with him. That was not the case with Mulder, though.
Scully gave Daniel a moment to recompose himself and stepped over to her partner. As she drew near, she placed a hand on his shoulder. She was still astounded by the vehemence of his defense of her, but genuinely touched by it.
"Are you alright?" she asked in a hushed whisper, ensuring they were turned away from Daniel's bed. Mulder pulled at his face.
"I shouldn't have overreacted like that," he stated in response. "That was inappropriate of me."
"It's fine, Mulder," Scully soothed. "I think it's something Daniel needed to hear—though perhaps not in that manner. Take a breath. Maybe go get some coffee? I'll talk to him." He nodded automatically.
"I'll be back in 10 minutes?" She smiled encouragingly.
"Alright." Without so much as a glance in Daniel's direction, Mulder strode from the private room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Scully watched him go before turning back to her old mentor. He looked at her stunned.
"You deal with that sort of unrestrained brutality on a daily basis?" he asked her. She wandered back toward his bedside.
"Only when he's angry—which isn't all that often. But I've been just as angry before, too."
"That man is insane, Dana," Daniel replied unhesitatingly. "He is mentally unstable and dangerous. To believe in the validity of the science fiction he was spewing—it means he is lost in a world of fantasy and cannot separate the figments of his imagination from reality."
"You don't know how many times I've heard that before," Scully sighed. "But you're wrong, Daniel."
"Dana," he said sternly, looking her in the eye. "That man could hurt you." She shook her head.
"He would never hurt me."
"Then you're in denial," Daniel replied without a hint of compassion. "Because that man is violently dangerous and is capable of causing severe harm."
"He is only dangerous when what he cares for is put at risk," Scully replied coolly. "Mulder is a man of passion, perhaps even the personification of it. He believes so fervently that the whole rest of the world melts away. To affront his beliefs is to put him on the warpath." Daniel stared at her dubiously.
"So you constitute as one of his beliefs then? Given the ferocity in which he defended you?" Scully took a moment to consider the obscure question. She remembered Mulder once telling her that the truth was in her, but that was a circumstantial statement considering she had miraculously escaped a mass genocide on a bridge with no memory of the event. Mulder had been absolutely relieved when he found she had survived the attack. He couldn't help but grin.
"Mulder is my partner," Scully eventually replied to Daniel's query, deciding to avoid the question entirely. "Of seven years, might I remind you. He and I are naturally protective of one another. He would stop at nothing to save me should I be in danger." She thought back to his reckless rescue of her in Antarctica. Her memories of the event were hazy since she was constantly falling in and out of consciousness, but she remembered his presence.
"And that occurs often, I take it?" Daniel pressed, concern coming to his eyes. Scully smiled ambiguously.
"More than you would care to know." Daniel was quiet for a moment, contemplating her.
"Then let me take you away from that danger, Dana," he said finally. Scully's brows flew upward in alarm.
"I don't need saving, Daniel."
"If what you say is true, it seems you do," Daniel said simply. "If Fox Mulder is allowed to save you again and again, why can't I rescue you once and for all?" Scully's lips slowly parted in stunned silence, but she knew her answer to that question.
"Because it's not what I want." She shook her head as the words quietly slipped from her. Daniel looked at her incredulously, as if he could hardly believe his ears.
"You don't want an escape from this nonsensical life you lead? From your maddened partner? Dana, I could reacquaint you with the world of modern medicine. Your sharp mind and steady hands could be such a boon to any prestigious hospital. There is so much good you could do!" He grew more enthusiastic as he spoke, hoping to win her over. Scully's mouth set in a frown.
"I do good now, Daniel. I save lives. It may not be through typical means or procedures, but they are still lives. People that might have well been buried and forgotten if it weren't for Mulder's tenacity. While I don't share his passion for the paranormal, I do share his passion for the work. I wouldn't trade it for anything." Daniel's frowned thoughtfully and let out a low chuckle.
"Funny words coming from a woman who just told me the other day that she didn't know what she wanted in life. Now you suddenly have all the answers?"
"I've had a few days to reevaluate my choices," Scully replied smoothly, yet firmly, "and I think I'm happy where I am." Daniel grunted.
"And it's in the FBI? With Fox Mulder? Hunting out the paranormal and the monsters that lurk under the bed?" Scully nodded stoically, unwilling to give him the chance to criticize her life choices further. "It's a sorry mistake if you ask me, Dana. I could give you so much more." The sentence sounded altogether normal to her ear, but there was a note of peculiarity. Something wasn't cohesive, and it caught Scully's attention. Her brows knit together.
"'Give me more'?" she echoed. "More than who? Or what?"
"That partner of yours."
"Mulder?" she clarified unnecessarily, her brows shooting upward in defiance of her otherwise unchanged expression.
"It's the only logical reason I can guess why you'd bring him here today," Daniel replied indifferently. "To show that he is more worthy of you than me." Scully sighed; it was the exact interpretation of the situation she feared Daniel would have; Mulder had held the same fear, and he was unwilling to involve himself in a figurative pissing match over Scully.
"You misinterpret my intention, Daniel."
"Do I?" came his sarcastic response. "Surely that's why any woman forces two men of her past to meet under unusual circumstances. It's a ploy to incite jealousy and viciousness between the pair as the woman looks on fondly, commending herself on her wit and cleverness. As the confrontation draws to a close, she picks the victor and goes off with him whilst leaving the loser in the dust. An evolved form of some territorial mating ritual, if you ask me." It was Scully's turn for her mouth to fall open.
He was angry and he was hurt, so he was intentionally saying careless, heartless things in attempt to harm her in return. And Daniel was always quick to criticize. As a medical student, Scully had learned to cling adamantly to his words of praise; she grew to crave his approval, and she fell for him in those moments when he would dote upon her because it showed her that she had done right.
A decade later, Scully wasn't about to be deterred by his harsh words.
"You think me capable of such underhanded tactics?" She leaned toward him and grasped him firmly by the arm. "Daniel, I want you to move on. You said the other day that I'm what you live for. Well, I want you to live for yourself—or if you're incapable of that—for Maggie. That's why I brought Mulder here." He quirked a bushy, gray eyebrow at her.
"To show you have moved past me over the last decade?" She shifted her hand to take his in her own.
"To show you that living for me is futile. The 'me' you're living for is ten years gone, Daniel. I'm what's become of her, and I'm happy where I am." There was a soft knock on the door. Mulder poked his head in.
"Don't mean to interrupt," he deadpanned, looking between the two. Scully noticed his gaze settle on their conjoined hands. Daniel coughed uncomfortably.
"Come in, Fox," he beckoned. Mulder shuffled in, carrying two styrofoam cups in one hand. He consciously shut the door behind him and walked up to Daniel's bedside.
"I'm not sure if you're cleared to drink this," he began, setting one of the cups on a table near Daniel, "but I thought I'd take my chances." He fished a couple packets of sugar and single-serving creamer containers from his jacket pocket and set them beside the coffee. It was an obscure gesture, but Scully saw it for what it was. Mulder was attempting to make up for his earlier behavior, and the only thing he could think to do was fetch the elder man coffee.
"And yours," he continued, turning to Scully and handing her the second cup. "One cream, no sugar—just as you take it." She slipped her hand from Daniel's to take the proffered cup. The sloshing liquid inside was piping hot; she felt the heat emanating through the styrofoam. "I should warn you both: drink it now and you risk burning your taste buds clean off; drink it later and it'll taste like sludge out of The Swamp Thing." Scully popped the lid of her cup off and perfunctorily blew against the steaming drink.
"Thank you, Mulder," she said, tempting a sip. She felt the scalding heat against her lips and quickly swallowed it down. The heat seared its way down her esophagus and landed in the pit of her stomach. She sputtered for a moment and tapped at her chest, hoping the burning sensation would fade away quickly. Mulder glanced at her with the slightest hint of amusement reaching his eyes; she glared in response, and he only grinned back. Once she was able to breathe properly again, she finally noted an aftertaste of watered down cardboard. She saw Daniel fiddle with the lid to his own cup. "Perhaps wait for a few moments to let it cool, Daniel," she recommended hastily. "It's a bit hot."
"I tried to warn you, Scully," Mulder grinned boyishly. Daniel managed to remove the lid and set it beside his steaming cup. He returned his gaze to Mulder.
"Well, thank you for the gesture, Fox." Mulder's grin slipped away as he regarded the elder man.
"You're welcome, sir." He hesitated for a brief moment. "I hope you'll forgive me my previous outburst." Daniel observed him solemnly.
"I'm unsure I can do that," he said after a pause. His pride had been significantly wounded. "To be blunt, I question whether you endanger Dana. She's said her piece to defend you, but I'm uncertain it can be trusted." Scully hadn't expected Daniel to press the issue, but then again, Daniel was just as stubborn—if not more-so—than Mulder.
"I can sympathize with your concern," Mulder began, keeping his eyes pinned to Daniel unwaveringly. "As I said before, Scully has sacrificed much in remaining as my partner—on both a professional and private level. Despite my own reservations and pleadings with her to abandon me to my cause," he broke contact with Daniel and looked to her, "she has remained steadfast in her determination to stand by me." For the first time all afternoon, Daniel looked mildly impressed. Mulder's gaze returned to him. The profiler in him was at work and he was able to pick up on Daniel's thoughts. "Yes, Dr. Waterston, though I could probably be diagnosed as a narcissistic egomaniac with a penchant for the paranormal, I am aware of the dangers my theories and my very presence pose to Scully. And I would not have her harmed or killed because of me." Pain flashed across Mulder's face. Daniel regarded the younger man at his bedside.
"If you're so afraid, then let Dana come with me." Scully watched as Mulder's teeth clenched together and he breathed heavily through his nose.
"You have no right, Daniel," she warned, rounding on her former lover. He didn't flinch or react in any way; he turned to her and spoke with complete calmness.
"Dana, it seems Fox and I can at least agree on this. We want what's best for your well-being and future. If neither of us want to see you harmed, have we no right to keep you from leaping unprepared into danger?"
"Not when it's my decision to make," she replied icily. Her eyes slipped from Daniel's concerned ones to Mulder's blank ones. She sensed a fidgety nervousness in his stance, but his eyes were devoid of anything, and that scared Scully. Was he actually considering Daniel's offer? A hint of the previous evening's darkness bled through the guise, and Scully realized he was debating whether to side with Daniel or not.
"Mulder..." she voiced quietly. His eyes raised and met hers. Fear suddenly swam within them, and Scully's chest constricted. Was he really going to give her up? To give up on her? That wasn't like Mulder; he never gave up. And he never treated her as an object to be pawned off or traded. He knew the choice to go with Daniel wasn't his to make, but he was considering making it anyway. Something was wrong.
"No," she said stonily, staring at her partner.
"Scully..." he breathed, looking helpless.
"No, Mulder," she repeated. "It's my choice." That statement seemed to somewhat snap him out of his desperate mindset. She saw the minor flair of a rekindled fire in his eyes and he nodded once in affirmation. She returned to Daniel. "I appreciate the concern, Daniel, but I can take care of myself. And I can decide for myself, too." She looked between the two men to allow her next phrases to sink in. "I am remaining in the FBI, and I will continue as Agent Mulder's partner." Daniel frowned unhappily.
"It seems your mind is set, Dana."
"It is," she affirmed. "Meanwhile you, Daniel, need to remain in medicine and continue to push the boundaries of the medical field. But you also need to open your heart to Maggie. She's hurting, and she's been hurting for ten years. You owe it to your daughter."
Silence fell for a few moments.
"So that's it?" Daniel asked with finality. Scully opened her mouth, considering the myriad of answers she could offer to that question, but each one of them would just prolong the conversation, and she felt it was time to go.
"Goodbye, Daniel." She grasped his hand and gave it one solitary squeeze. As she turned and walked to the door, she brushed her hand against Mulder's shoulder. He offered a nod of farewell to the elder man before following her out.
Once she heard the distinct sound click of the door shutting closed, she felt her emotional wall crumble some, at least insofar as she was willing to reach for Mulder's hand at her side without feeling the shame of impropriety. He responded to her touch, and curled his hand around hers as they wandered down the brightly lit hall.
She was still perturbed over his actions in the hospital room; they just weren't like him, but after breaking Daniel's heart for a second time, she needed a source of comfort. And that was Mulder for good or ill.
"Time to find Maggie," she reminded him.
"I saw her in the cafeteria earlier," Mulder murmured. "She sat apart from others. You're right in that she's hurting." He glanced over to her.
"I think I am, too, Mulder. What was that in there?" She peered up into his green eyes. He broke all contact from her—eyesight and touch. She continued to look up at him, though.
"Me wondering if you'd be better somewhere else," he finally answered.
"That's not your decision to make, Mulder," Scully countered. "We talked about that last night."
"I realize that," he nodded. "I guess Waterston makes a convincing argument." He smiled lightly down at her, the minor levity just reaching his eyes. She didn't return the gesture.
"Indeed he does," she sighed aggravatedly, punching the elevator call button.
The pair of agents stepped out into the waning afternoon sun. Mulder suddenly found himself free to breathe more easily. Hospitals were hardly his favorite place to visit given the frequency he found himself at one to either get himself patched up or to see a fellow agent or family member. They did good work and they performed miracles on a daily basis, but the icy, clinical feeling that permeated all hospitals always chilled him to the bone. Despite being a propagator of life, they always felt lifeless in and of themselves—unfeeling husks of buildings that worked like assembly lines, shipping patients in and out at a rapid rate to keep outpatient numbers high. Even the staff often felt like emotionless drones, though Mulder knew they likely felt more than anyone could guess. The highs and lows of recovery and degradation. It had to be a hard life, and it was certainly one Mulder could never see himself living.
They approached Scully's car. She had been aloof since leaving Maggie Waterston in the cafeteria a few minutes earlier. Scully was irritated with him. She wondered why he hadn't rallied to her defense at Waterston's offer to "protect" her. Mulder had, after all, championed her earlier when Waterston had insulted her.
Yet he balked when it mattered most.
And that was only due to his own insecurities. Despite his desires to be with Scully in the last months of his life, he also wanted to continue hiding the truth from her, and she deserved more than that. Granted, she deserved more than Waterston, too, but wasn't he a better choice for her than Mulder? More stable, more secure; the man obviously loved her, and she had once loved him.
Mulder hadn't intended to hand Scully over to Waterston in some kind of old-timey exchange of goods. He simply wished that Scully would reconsider her choice in him. It would be better for them both in the long run. Of the two of them, she was the strong one, and she had the power to end their short-lived romance. Mulder wasn't able to give up what he had already attained. He was much too enamoured and narcissistic.
As they approached Scully's car, he rounded to the passenger side door as she slid the key into the driver's side lock. Mulder folded his arms on the hood of the car.
"Hey, Scully. Why don't I drive?" She regarded him behind her cool, blue eyes.
"Why?" she asked slowly, sounding suspicious.
"It was another tough day for you. Dealing with Waterston and all," he replied simply. She sighed and looked at him full on.
"What was tough, Mulder, was dealing with you. Honestly, what was that back there? Last night you agree that what goes on in my life is my choice, then today you're trying to hand me off to Daniel."
"I was second guessing," Mulder replied cryptically.
"Second guessing my life, Mulder," Scully insisted. "Something you have no right to do." She looked over the hood at him, eyebrows raised in a typical Scully mannerism he had grown so accustomed to.
"You're right," he acceded, finding himself unwilling to push the issue. He didn't want his last months filled with plaguing questions and suspicious glances; if he was going to keep his secret from her, he would enjoy what he had left of life.
"Now that's something I don't hear every day. You're sure you're okay, Mulder?" The suspicious nature had returned to her tone. He plastered on a grin, surprised at how close her question hit home.
"Give me the keys." She contemplated him for a moment, tilting her head to one side before tossing the keys over to him. They both circled the car to the opposite doors and slid in. Mulder slipped the key into the ignition, but refrained from turning the key. He looked over at his partner.
"You know you are right, Scully. I can't force you into any situation—with Waterston, with someone else. I just wonder if I'm the right choice for you." She deserved to know at least that much of his reason for acting as he did. And he wanted to give her one last chance to break it off "You have a chance for a normal life with that white picket fence and a dog. Whatever you could want, and I can't offer you that." Scully blue eyes stared into his own.
"Where is this coming from, Mulder?" she asked worriedly. "I mean, first last night and now today." Her eyes flickered over his face as she tried to read him. Normally he wore his heart on his sleeve, but in this rare case, he kept it buried down deep. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he lied easily, slipping on a lopsided smile for good measure. "I haven't been this...close to someone in a long while," he added in measured breaths, dropping his head to stare mindlessly at his lap. "I guess I want to make sure you know what you're getting into." His head swung up to meet her eyes again. "I don't really have the best track record for relationships." Scully chuckled inaudibly.
"And you think I do?" she returned, staring at him incredulously. She reached across the center console for his hand. "Mulder, if I'm here, then I want to be here. And after seven years of working with you, I hope I know what I'm getting into."
"Then again, you never know what truths you might uncover," he replied teasingly, opting for his usual ploy of concealing his true emotions with a laid-back, carefree attitude.
It was there. It was said. She wasn't leaving him, and Mulder didn't have the heart to leave her.
I'm going to hell for this, he thought.
He slipped his hand from hers and flipped the ignition key. The engine turned over and rumbled to life.
"So where to, Scully? A spur-of-the moment cross country road trip maybe?" he asked, checking his rearview mirror and backing out.
"We've done enough road trips for a lifetime, Mulder," Scully replied. "I was thinking something a bit closer to home. How about dinner and a movie?"
"Ooh," he crooned, easily falling back into routine. "If you're looking to ask me on a first date, Scully, you can do better than that!" She rolled her eyes with a smile.
"There's a strip mall with a Hollywood Video near my place, and there's a liquor store just around the corner. You get a six-pack, and I'll rent a movie. After the feature presentation, I'll give you a home-cooked meal. Would that make us even for today?" She gestured back to the hospital building they were slowly leaving behind them.
"Nah, Scully. You don't owe me anything," Mulder disagreed, once again considering his predicament. When she had nearly succumbed to her cancer, he had been willing to go to hell and back so long as she miraculously survived. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be willing to do the same if she learned of his diagnosis. And he didn't want to put her through that. He didn't want her to make any exorbitant effort on his part because it would all be for naught soon enough.
"Fine," she consented with a nod. "Then how about just a relaxing afternoon after a strenuous evening and morning?"
"'Strenuous'?" Mulder repeated. He looked at her mischievously out of the corner of his eye. "Not the word I'd use to describe last night."
"Shut up, Mulder," she chided, trying to keep a straight face.
"It's tempting, Scully," he replied easily, "but what happened to your paperwork?"
"There'll be time for that in the evening," she countered coolly. "And truth be told, I am not in the right mental state for filing overdue reports."
"Try telling that to Skinner tomorrow."
"It'll get done," she insisted. "And you owe Skinner your England report tomorrow anyway."
"Touché, Scully," Mulder drawled, turning in the direction of Georgetown.