A/N: I own nothing of the X-Files or the characters. We've seen Mrs. Scully and Frohike... how about some good ole AD Skinner?

I am exhausted, despite having finally slept for a several hours earlier. Since waking, I've been laying here on my couch, zoning out on television, for the past couple of hours. I rise slowly, pulling my aching body upright on the couch. I left Frokhike's filled with more unease and angst than when I came so when I finally entered my apartment I didn't stay long. Wired, I grabbed my gym bag and basketball to try and wear out my restless mind and body. Hours later, I returned to my apartment so physically tired and sore that I could barely use my hand to check my cell. I had left it to charge before leaving earlier. No messages. No phone calls. I find the same is true when I reach for it now. I don't know why I think she'll call.

I look over at my clock. It's only ten. Should I call? I scoff at that thought. That would be a mistake. I haven't figured out how to explain myself to her… to make her understand. Hell, do I understand it? I want her. That much is true but a statement such as that is too simple for what I feel and what I need to explain to her. I crave Scully. I need her. I desire her. I love her. Spewing all that out over the phone would shock and probably horrify her while ending with my humiliation. I still can't shake that urge, that need to call her and talk to her.

I groan loudly as I rise from the couch. My stomach has been pestering me with angry objections for a while so I make my way to the refrigerator. I have no appetite despite my body telling me to eat. My mouth still has a sour taste left in it, one that has lingered since I walked out of Scully's place. I rummage thru the left overs and condiments before finally settling on whatever might be left in the Brother's Pizza box. I open it and find a score. Two slices of pepperoni with green peppers left. A couple of days old but that's what makes them the best. I throw the first bit in my mouth and grab a bottle of ice tea, closing the fridge with my elbow. I return to the couch, already half devouring the first pizza slice. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.

I try to think of nothing as I watch Invasion of the Body Snatches on TV for the one hundredth time. But my mind keeps wandering back to yesterday, keeping me from truly finding mindless peace tonight. I keep reliving it in the recesses of my mind. It's the catalyst from yesterday.

We are with the team, getting ready to storm the Grendel home. When I get this gut feeling about Brent. I know he's not at home as I turn to scan the surrounding area. His not of the kind of man who can take his work home with him, if you catch my drift. I catch a figure out of the corner of my eye in an abandoned office building across the street from the apartment building. A stark sunlight shaft breaks out from the encroaching storm clouds and highlights a ghostly and featureless figure in the fourth floor corner window. It's gone as quickly as it was there when the clouds roll forward, blocking the illuminating rays and I know it was Brenda Anderson. I lead Scully into the abandoned building without a second thought. I should have grabbed some back up. I should have followed protocol but that has never been my strong suit. I bound up the stairs, two at a time, and not even noticing she's not following me. I am so focused, so driven, as I race towards the fourth floor. I have eaten, slept and worked this case for days. It's all I know. By the time I locate the old seamstress's mannequin draped in lace, I noticed I am truly alone. Scully is not behind me. I try reaching her on her cell phone but there is no answer. Nothing.

It takes me a life time to find them. I know it has aged me, thinking I may have lost her again and that it was my fault. I burst into the room. I see the monster on my Scully. Her eyes are wide with fear, her skin exposed and bared. His pants down, the blood is shiny and red and I fire. I don't breath. I don't think. I pull the trigger and kill the son of a bitch. I'd do it again. I wish I could do it again. Or better yet, I wish I wouldn't have taken that kill shot right away. I wish I could have made it last longer. The bastard deserved it. He deserved so much worse than a goddamn bullet to the head.

So much as happened in the last twenty-four hours. So much has changed. The day, the emotions, the actions have all seemed to blur together for me with a single segment imprinted and repeating in my mind as fresh as newly spilled blood. In the ambulance, in that moment, when our eyes met. That's when everything really changed. It was the first moment I let the honesty of my feelings surface and express. It is the first time I was every honest with myself. I am in love with Scully. She is my world. And in that moment of discovery, I showed my entirety to her, let her know my feeling before I could even comprehend them completely myself.

Flash forward to this morning, when I allowed my emotions to surface to the top again and followed Scully's lead. Before I realized what was happening, my world was different, panic set in and I ruined it. I fucked up. I shouldn't be alone my couch. I shouldn't be chewing on sunflower seeds, munching away worriedly. I should have fine woman next to me, curled up against me. I should have stayed. I should have realized I need her, how much I need her and not just as my partner.

This is the same thing, the horrible outcome I was terrified of as I searched for her yesterday afternoon. I've almost lost her for a third time. And this time it is 100% my fault. No man to blame but me. I need to fix this. I need to mend us. I need her. I just don't know how to do it.

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I enter the office and at once I know she's not here. I resisted, agonized on it all night and early morning, but I did not call her. I know I can't hold off anymore as my long fingers making a tight grip on the phone. I dial her home number first. Endless rings echo in my ear with no answer. I hang up and dial her cell. Same result.

I sink slowly in my chair and shut eyes. Great start to a Monday morning. She's not answering my calls. What have I done? Did I completely break this relationship, damage it beyond repair?

Time ticks by. Seconds, minutes into an hour. I stuck, waiting on her. I have files to review, cases to follow up on but nothing. My mind is stuck on her. I wish I could say I knew what I was going to say to her. That the hours I spent awake on the couch were productive. But I'm still as confused and barren for words as I went running from her room into the stark light of day. I would have thought daylight of yesterday and today would have helped to enlighten me, to show me the way.

I can feel the twinge travel down my hand into my fingers tips, I want to try again. To call her, to try and reach her. I need to fix this. I have to fix this… us.

As I reach for the phone again, it jolts alive and the ringing shocks be back in my seat. Scully. Her name flashes across my mind. The phone's ring resounds again within the small office and drives me to answer it.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively, holding my breath.

"Agent Mulder." I am greeted with a familiar gruff voice. "I would like to see you in my office… now." Director Skinner does not sound pleased.

I swallow thickly. "Yes Sir." This should be fun. Mondays suck.

I could make the trek up to the Director's office quickly with my long stride but I pace myself. I don't out right delay but I'm sure not making my best time. I need the few spare moments to gather myself. I'm still unsettled. I'm unnerved. Skinner could want to talk about anything, who knows what's on his radar but I've got to be at least presentable.

The pretty young secretary nods at me, tight-lipped. Acknowledgement I was expected. I enter the office. Skinner offers me a nod and motions to the chairs in front of his desk with a file folder in his hand. His brow is furrowed. Yep, he doesn't look pleased. Same as the phone. I suppose it's a roll of the dice. The man is never happy.

I lower myself into the chair as he starts, "Just got off the phone with Detective Rankin. You and Scully were able to identify a viable suspect."

"Yes. We identified Brent Grendel as a high probability for our suspect." I try not to grip the arms of the chair too hard, this is not going to be fun. "He was shot and killed by me during apprehension."

Skinner cocks an eye brow at me and looks down at the file in front of him. "There is more to the story than that." He lets it hang there. He wants me to tell him my side of the story. A tactic used to hang one's self. No, I know that trick. No, he needs to show his cards first. I say nothing. A couple of seconds tick by and he looks back up at me. I didn't think it was possible but he looks even more peeved. He slowly closes the file.

"You and Agent Scully broached protocol… again. You left the SWAT group going to Brent's apartment. You put yourselves in danger. Agent Scully was attacked and a suspect is dead."

I know when he says You, he means me. He never means Scully but I say it anyway. "I am at fault. I broached protocol. Scully followed-"

Skinner put his hand up, stopping me. "Agent Scully is capable of making her own decisions."

"Brent Grendel has been confirmed as the man we were looking for. We discovered Brenda at the scene," I counter. "We could not take Agents from SWAT to follow us. We couldn't take resources away from the investigation. Time was of the essence."

"You couldn't wait until the Grendel residence was cleared? You could have brought support." He retorted, snorting.

"We were trying to save a life."

"So instead you almost lost Agent Scully's." It's like a punch to my gut. I swallow thickly. I have no answer. It is my fault she was almost killed… again. What can I say back? Nothing…

Skinner purses his lips and leans back in his chair. "You also broke protocol when you had Agent Scully's statement deferred. The detective was none too pleased with you and your bullshit with pulling juridical rank." He pauses and set his jaw. "That is not like you, Agent Mulder. You, if anything, encourage relationships with local law enforcement." He takes his pen and taps it against the file.

For once, I actually feel the anxiety from his scrutiny. He's right. It wasn't like me. I just did what I could to get the detectives off of me so I could get to Scully. I needed to be with her and I couldn't until I dealt with them. Again, I say nothing. I try to keep my face as blank as possible under his glower.

"Well, Agent Scully is there now, calming some ruffled feathers you created."

I can't stop the surprise from reaching my arching eyebrows. Skinner pauses and gives me a curious look before continuing, "She is giving them her final statement. I told her to take some time off to recover but I believe she will be in later today. I expect the finalized report from you by the end of the day on this case."

Scully will be in. Scully is OK. I can't stop my heart from racing at the knowledge I will be in her presences. Maybe we are OK, maybe ? I realize Skinner is staring at me, waiting for my response. I shuffle myself more upright, more certain. Clearing my throat, trying to keep the squeak out of it but failing as I respond, "Yes, Sir."

"That will be all."

"Yes, Sir." I rise to leave.

I make it to the door before he calls to me. "Curious, Agent Mulder. Is something wrong?"

I turn and look at him. I don't know how to answer. How do you tell your supervising officer that you and your partner came so close to being so much more and the other one screwed it up but wishes they hadn't and is not sure what the partnership is going to look like going forward. Yeah, not sure how to explain that at all to the balding, fierce man in front of me. Instead, I reply, "I'm not sure…" and walk out of the office.