AN: Beta by CazQ back in the day (thank you). This is more than two decades old, but I'm trying to get all my drabbles archived in the same place. It was on Ephemeral and Gossamer back in the day.

Long Weekend

"It was the strangest thing, Mulder. I don't usually remember my dreams. At least not so vividly."

"Who was it?"

"You're not paying attention. I told you I didn't see the face."

"No. You said you woke up before you could finish it because the phone rang. Who called you so late last night?"

"Oh. Mom wants me to spend tomorrow and Saturday, maybe drive up state a couple of hours, into Pennsylvania, go to Mass with her Sunday morning."

"That sounds nice, Scully. Give her my best."

"I haven't said if I'm going or not. We have so much to do. I told her maybe I'd try next weekend if things die down."

"The only thing about to give up the ghost around here is the load of paperwork I'm about to take a flame thrower to. We've been working a lot of weekends. You know, you haven't seen her in more than a month. Go to Baltimore before she winds up hating me as much as Bill does."

"Mulder. My mother doesn't hate you, and neither does Bill."

"To the first part, I didn't say she did hate me. Just that even your mother, in all her gentle-hearted Catholic Ladies' Auxiliary glory could be persuaded to take an intense disliking to me. I can only assume she'll be sainted shortly after you based on Mulder-tolerance alone. And as for Bill, liar, liar, pants on fire."

Scully leaned against the corner of the desk, arms crossed, staring intently at her right hand. He abandoned his chair in favor of the space roughly ten inches in front of her.

"Go. I'll be good. I can stay here and file meaningless reports. I'll call before I go anywhere interesting."

Doubt drew familiar lines on her face. He tamped down an equally familiar impulse to trace them with the tip of a finger.

"Define interesting," Scully demanded.

"As in anything that requires a plane ticket, rental car, disciplinary hearing or hospital stay. Tomorrow's Friday, and then you're technically not required to keep me from doing anything stupid until Monday, by which time you will be back and I'll be saved from myself."

Scully's laughter rang more with irony than amusement.

"What?"

"Since when does weekend mean you won't get into any trouble?"

Guilty as charged. He smiled faintly, shifting his weight back and forth, hands shoved uselessly in pockets.

"Go, Scully. Take a long weekend. Be a daughter. A tourist. A whatever. Come back on Monday with a smile and a funny story to tell."

She made no move, eyes cast down to the chipped clear nail polish on her ring finger.

He was close enough to breathe in her perfume, match the even cadence of her breathing, hear the steady clicking sound as she absently ran her thumbnail over the flawed place.

The basement was quiet, and as much as anything, he thought it might be nice just to lay his head down on her shoulder and drift off. This was easy. Easy had been in short supply.

"I'll muddle through..."

Scully's skepticism waned by a degree, evaporating in the fuzzy wake of a five-o'-clock shadow brushing against her temple.

"...and give Mrs. Scully that for me and tell her I'm sorry it's been so long."

"Since I saw her or you did?"

"Both. Neither. Yes."

A moment passed, and she nodded in assent. "I'll have my cell-"

"Turn it off."

"Sort of defeats the purpose of having a cellular phone."

Mulder shook his head. "The new Enquirer is on the newsstands. I might be tempted to call and ask for your opinion on any number of pressing topics."

"Hmmm."

"You'd shoot me down. An investigation would ensue. It would be very ugly."

Nothing.

"Scully, you deserve a couple of days. So does she. And believe me, if I need you, if something happens, I can find you wherever you are."

"I know that."

Silence reigned again. Her shiver was tiny, involuntary. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to ward off a common memory, the least objectionable part of which was the pervasive, numbing chill.

"Cold?"

"No...I mean, not really."

"Okay."

"Then I'll check in."

"Thank you."

"All right."

Scully finally lost interest in her manicure and ventured a look up. A gentle squeeze where his hands rested on her shoulders, and he stepped back to his chair.

"Will you check in with the lab while I'm gone, see if they have anything for us yet?"

"Delia?"

"No, actually Travis took it this time."

"Wonders never cease." He located a pencil: Call Travis. Mulder looked up from his notation as she took her coat from the chair in front of his desk. He picked up Scully's Christmas gag gift to him, a little inspirational desk calendar. Tear off a page and begin each morning with a touch of the sunshine their miserly windows would not admit.

Mulder, I saw it and immediately thought of you.

Scully found it pretty funny. Most mornings her partner agreed it was worth a laugh.

Rrrrippp. April 29th - If you love it, let it go. If it returns to you, it belongs to you.

A snicker stopped her progress at the door, and she looked around to pinpoint the cause of Mulder's mirth.

"A good one today?"

"Pretty good."

"Share?"

He stood, placed the calendar in a waiting hand, and observed.

Invisible angel hands tugged up at the corners of her mouth. Not a heart stopper, but the expression that surfaced against her considerable will when one of his jokes was funnier than normal.

The object of his study looked up from her own, an easy smile blooming across her lips. Dizzy. Lightheaded. Mulder struck out for something solid to grasp, and found the door frame. He would not look away first.

"Really?"

"So saith the Hallmark."

Scully smirked. "Hmmm. See you Monday, Mulder."