Mulder was sitting on his couch, alone, exhausted and… female.

After a long day, he was facing a long night as well, with no answers and no solutions. Right now his main problem wasn't how to get back his male body, but how to function in this female one. He wasn't even sure he wanted to go back. He wasn't a man trapped in female body, he was a woman who used to be man, but wasn't anymore. Women generally didn't want to be men, and Mulder was no exception. He could remember being a man, but he couldn't feel it anymore. It was like remembering a past life or first kiss, something that surely had happened, but it doesn't have any active impact on your current situation.

The unfamiliar hormones were driving him crazy. Being a woman was hard; not that being a man was any easier, but at least he was used to that. This was something new and he didn't know how to even start adjusting to it. Shopping helped in a way that he felt much more comfortable in clothes that were designed for his current shape, but that was only on the outside.

Inside, he was facing a storm. His thoughts were a loud gibberish, jumping from one subject to another, and his attempts to catch them and focus on just one were in vain. His feelings seemed to have a will of their own, just using him as a vessel in their confusing dance.

He was tense and irritable, for no apparent reason. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Everything was so intense that he didn't know if he could survive it.

"You'll get used to it," Scully had told him. He could only hope she was right. After all, she had a lot more experience with female-ing than he did.

Scully had driven him to his place and hugged him goodbye, but it was a tense hug, as if she was doing it for the first time, or to prove that she was still able to touch him without getting sick.

"Call me if you need anything," she had told him, placing a chocolate bar in his purse. "If you are one of those rare, lucky bitches who don't like chocolate, save it for when I come to visit you."

As it turned out, he wasn't a "rare, lucky bitch" - he ate the whole damn thing! It calmed him down, just a bit, but enough to come up with some kind of a plan. He had promised Scully he would work on figuring out a way to undo her wishes, but he had a bigger problem at hand: hairy legs. Scully had said it doesn't matter, but he never saw her legs looking like that! He took his razor, got into the tub and went to work. The result pleased him so much that he didn't stop with legs; he bravely started to clear the way in between them. It was a perfect opportunity to finally learn exactly what is where and how certain activities feel. He remembered that one never-to-be-mentioned-again night with Scully, but he didn't think about what he did to her, focusing instead on how it would feel if someone did the same to him. The male someone. His sex may have changed, but his orientation remained heterosexual.

All in all, he spent a hell of a lot time in the bathroom, finally getting out feeling cleaner and dirtier at the same time.

He went back to the couch and turned the television on, not knowing what to watch. Sport suddenly sounded boring and the mere idea of his tapes disgusted him. He settled on a romantic movie, crying at the predictable and not-sad-at-all end. It made him wonder if something was wrong with him. Not all women acted that irrationally, did they?

Speaking of irrational, how come he never noticed before how much of a mess his place was? How did he manage to live like that? What kind of a man he used to be? What kind of a woman was he supposed to be now? Could he be like Scully? He couldn't come up with a better role model than Scully, when it came to being female or anything else, really. Surely, she had flaws, but he wouldn't change even that about her.

He started to clean up a bit, but soon learned he wasn't a natural at that. It made him feel hopeful, at least some things about him didn't change. He was getting hungry, but couldn't find anything eatable in the fridge. Pizza used to be his usual choice, but this time he craved something healthier. More than that, he craved company. He picked up the phone and started to dial Scully's number, but changed his mind. She spent most of the week taking care of him, and she deserved a little break and time for herself. It wouldn't be fair to deny her that.

No, he would call someone else. But who? He had no friends. Okay, he did, but the new she didn't. Nobody but Scully knew her.

He didn't want to go to a restaurant alone and he didn't want to hang out with strangers. He didn't want to bother Scully, but he started to type her number again because she was the only one…

No.

She wasn't.

There was someone else.

Another friend.

A big, bald, beautiful man who told him to call him Walter.

Mulder quickly dialed the number, before his unpredictable female brain could change his mind. Skinner must have figured out by now who he really was and he might have available resources to help him. He will yell at him, scold him, and somehow blame this all on him, even though it was technically Scully's fault, but he will help him in the end. He always does.

"Skinner," the familiar voice answered the phone.

"Hi sir, um, it's Mulder."

There was a moment of silence before Skinner reacted. "Vixen?"

"Yeah, Vixen," Mulder rolled his eyes. Damn it, Scully! Why couldn't you come up with a normal name, like BJ, or, I don't know, Denise? You know how much I hate my real name, but it didn't stop you from giving me the female version of it!

"How, um, how did you get my number?" Skinner wondered. Good question.

"Scully gave it to me," Mulder answered. Take that, my creative partner! If this conversation, or even potential meeting, goes wrong, Skinner will have you to blame!

"Oh, what a coincidence."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Nothing, I just… I wanted to ask her for your number."

Shit! This wasn't going as Mulder had planned. Skinner obviously hadn't figured out anything, instead he… This was awkward as hell.

"Why is that, sir?" Mulder asked carefully.

"Call me Walter," Skinner insisted.

"Walter," Mulder repeated. "What did you want my number for?"

"I was just wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometimes."

Holly…! Mulder took a deep breath, his heart racing. Was Skinner asking him on a date? This was insane! Hang up, Mulder! Fox, Vixen, whoever you are, just hang up the damn phone!

"Tonight?" Mulder heard himself asking, instead of hanging up. To hell with everything! He didn't want to be alone tonight, and Skinner was… attractive.

No! No, no, no! Skinner was a friend! A gentleman! Besides, nothing needs to happen on a first date, right?

"Well, I wasn't about to suggest tonight, but if you are available…" Skinner hesitated, though not for long. "If you are available, so am I."

"I am," Mulder heard his crazy female brain talking.

The same brain agreed with "Walter" on time and place, but that wasn't enough. Shrewd brain calculated that he had just enough time to buy that lingerie that Scully hadn't approved of.

This female brain didn't need another female's permission to start living fully and unapologetically.