Scully was sitting at her desk, reviewing autopsy reports, when her phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, she saw "Lone Gunmen" flash across the display. A small smile tugged at her lips as she picked it up.
"Hey, Agent Scully," Langly's familiar voice came through. "What's going on? You free tonight?"
Scully leaned back in her chair. "For what, exactly?"
"Pizza and a movie," Frohike chimed in with enthusiasm. "You know, some downtime. Escape from the insanity."
Scully chuckled softly. "Pizza and a movie?"
"Yeah, something cheesy and probably bad," Langly added. "But no alien conspiracies this time, we promise."
Byers' voice followed, more measured. "We thought you might like a break. It's been a while."
Scully hesitated briefly. The Gunmen were offering her something she hadn't had in what felt like a long time—a night of normalcy. "What time?"
"Seven," Frohike answered quickly. "We'll let you pick the movie. Anything you want."
Scully smirked. "I'm holding you to that. I'll be there."
She hung up the phone and set it down, her smile fading slightly as she let out a quiet breath. It was a small relief to have an evening planned with the Gunmen, away from everything else. But as her mind drifted, she couldn't help but reflect on how much things had changed recently.
The basement office had become suffocating. Ever since Fowley had come back, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Scully had been making herself scarce, choosing to work with Reyes and Doggett instead of staying around Mulder and Diana. It hurt to admit, but seeing them together, seeing how comfortable they were around each other, felt like a reminder of something she didn't want to face.
She barely saw Mulder anymore, at least not in the way they used to connect. Before, they had shared everything—cases, late-night talks, and moments of trust that went beyond words. But lately, it felt like he was drifting, caught between his past with Diana and whatever they hadn't resolved between themselves.
Scully sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't sure what hurt more—Mulder's confusion, or her own inability to confront her feelings head-on. They had kissed, and that moment, brief as it was, had stirred something deep inside her. But the complexities of their relationship, the job, the unspoken fears, had made her pull back.
Her thoughts lingered on that kiss for a moment longer. Mulder wanted to talk about it, but she couldn't let him. Not now. Not with everything else so uncertain. Maybe she couldn't ever be that person for him.
Shaking off the heaviness settling over her, she checked the time. A night with the Gunmen sounded like just the distraction she needed—no complications, no expectations, just pizza, a movie, and maybe some laughs.
For one night, she could put everything else aside.
Byers opened the door to the Gunmen's lair with his usual formality, greeting Scully with a warm smile. "Agent Scully, so good to see you," he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "How are you doing?"
Scully gave him a small smile as she stepped inside. "I'm fine."
Byers raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced but polite enough not to push. "Fine enough for a rematch on who finds the most scientific errors in a movie?" he asked, his tone lightening. "You slaughtered us last time."
Scully's smile widened. "I was about to suggest Steel Magnolias to see which one of you cries first."
From behind the couch, Frohike immediately popped up, waving a slice of pizza. "Oh, it's on! But for the record, I'm betting Langly cracks first."
"Not happening," Langly shot back from the other side of the room. "I'm made of stone." He was already queuing up the movie selections.
Scully chuckled, the warmth of the Gunmen's camaraderie cutting through the weight of her recent thoughts. This was the kind of night she needed—a few hours away from the complexities of the basement office and the ongoing tension with Mulder. She could let herself relax, if only for a little while.
Byers handed Scully a slice of pizza as she settled onto the couch. "Just remember, we're not above using emotional manipulation to win," he joked, nodding toward the TV.
Scully leaned back, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at the group, grateful for the distraction from everything that had been weighing on her lately. "I'll be watching."
Just as Langly was about to hit play, Frohike cleared his throat from the other side of the room. "Before we start, though," he said, his voice a little more serious than usual, "there's something we need to tell you."
Scully looked up, her smile fading slightly as her curiosity piqued. The room seemed to still as she waited for whatever was coming next.
Frohike was mid-sentence, his voice rising with indignation as he pulled out a thin folder. "I'm telling you, Scully, Diana Fowley has been trying to access your MUFON file. Not just that, but your FBI and civil records, too. She's—"
The doorbell rang, interrupting him. Byers got up quickly to answer it, leaving Frohike to continue his tirade. "She cannot be trusted. I don't know what her game is, but it's not good, and Mulder—"
Suddenly, Frohike fell silent as Mulder appeared in the doorway, his face dark with anger. "What's going on here?" Mulder's voice cut through the room like a blade. His gaze swept over the Gunmen, finally landing on Scully. "What are you all doing?"
The tension in the room became palpable as everyone froze.
Frohike's words hung in the air, heavier than intended. "We were just telling Agent Scully about that snitch of an ex of yours," he said, his tone biting.
Mulder's eyes flicked toward Scully, who stood there, momentarily frozen by the revelation. She hadn't known Diana Fowley was more than just a former partner in work. Mulder, caught off-guard but clearly agitated, turned to Scully.
"Did you ask them to pull up that information?" Mulder demanded, his voice rising with an edge of defensiveness. Before Scully could even respond, Mulder continued, now fully immersed in his unusual outburst. "So, she's my ex, so what? You don't like her? That's your issue, not mine. At least she talks to me!"
His harsh words, devoid of his usual sensitivity, sliced through the air. He didn't even notice that Scully had quietly turned and left the room. The Gunmen stared at Mulder, all three of them shocked by his sudden outburst. Frohike, who had seen Mulder angry before, had never seen him lash out like this, especially not toward Scully.
"What's wrong with you?" Frohike blurted out, still reeling from the unexpected exchange. "And on her birthday of all things."
Mulder froze, the words slamming into him like a punch. His eyes widened in sudden realization as the weight of what just happened crashed down on him.
Scully had already turned and left, her quiet exit barely noticeable in the heat of his outburst. But now, it was all Mulder could focus on—her leaving, her silence, and her birthday. How could he have forgotten?
His anger evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling of regret. Without a word to the Gunmen, he bolted for the door, his mind racing. How could he have said those things? How could he have done this to her today?
Running down the hallway, Mulder's heart pounded, not just from the sprint, but from the realization that he might have hurt her worse than he could've imagined.
Mulder finally caught up with Scully outside, but she was already walking briskly toward her car. "Scully!" he called out, his voice rough with urgency. She didn't stop. She didn't even glance back.
His pace quickened, but by the time he got close, she had already reached her car. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but Scully didn't give him the chance. With a calm, deliberate motion, she got into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled away without a second look.
Mulder stood there, frozen, watching her car disappear down the street, the taillights fading into the darkness. His heart sank, a hollow ache settling in his chest as he realized she was gone, leaving him with no way to fix what had just unraveled.
The night air felt colder as he stood alone, the silence around him deafening. He had no idea how to get her back.
Mulder trudged back into the Gunmen's hideout, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and he could feel the weight of their disappointment as he entered. Frohike was the first to speak up, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
"What the hell? How could you?" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of anger and concern.
Mulder slumped into a chair, feeling defeated. "I know. She wouldn't listen to my apology," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Langly chimed in, his tone dry. "Count your blessings she didn't shoot you."
Byers, arms crossed, added, "We invited her here. We had fun last movie night pointing out scientific errors, and it's her birthday."
Mulder's brow furrowed further. "Why did you tell her Diana is my ex, then?"
Frohike shrugged, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "We didn't. You did. We only told her that Diana was trying to access her files... at MUFON, at the FBI..."
Mulder began to think out loud, piecing together the implications. "Why would Diana do that?"
"Ask your chickadee that," Frohike shot back, his eyes narrowing. "But we made a promise to Scully to keep her safe, so we felt we had to tell her."
"Keeping her safe…" Mulder murmured, contemplating the gravity of the situation. He pressed for more information. "What do you guys know?"
Byers shook his head firmly. "Not a chance in hell we're telling you. I told her she could talk to you, that you would understand. I'm not so sure about that anymore after tonight, though."
Mulder felt a pang of guilt wash over him. The evening had spiraled out of control, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let Scully down just when she needed him most.
Mulder drove to Scully's apartment, his heart racing with the hope of finding her there. He parked and rushed to the door, only to find it empty and dim inside. Frowning, he turned back to his car, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He knew he had to find her.
After a moment of thought, he decided to drive to Mrs. Scully's house. As he pulled up, he was greeted by Mrs. Scully, who looked delighted yet a bit confused to see him.
"Fox! What a surprise! You must have gotten your messages crossed. Tonight, Dana is with those mutual friends of yours. The three gentlemen who publish that… um… unusual newspaper."
Mulder nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "The Lone Gunmen, yes."
Mrs. Scully continued, "And on Saturday, there's a little gathering here. Dana did extend the invite to you, didn't she? She doesn't like to fuss about her birthday. Never has, even as a child."
"I'm sorry for the mix-up, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in. "I'll better go and find her then."
"Oh, I'll see you on Saturday, dear," Mrs. Scully replied cheerfully. "At 3 PM. Present is mandatory. Just think how much Dana will hate having to open gifts in front of everyone," she smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection.
Mulder forced a smile in return, feeling the heaviness in his heart. He needed to find Scully and make things right, especially after the way their last encounter had gone. As he left Mrs. Scully's house, he hoped he could track her down before it was too late.
Mulder pulled back into the parking space at Scully's apartment complex, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in his chest. He noticed her car was parked out front, but the building was dark and silent. The lack of light coming from her apartment only deepened his unease. He tried calling her, but the phone just rang and rang, leaving him feeling even more helpless.
After a few moments, he decided to wait it out in his car, glancing at the clock as the minutes passed. Just when he began to wonder if he should leave, he spotted a figure jogging toward the building. As she got closer, he recognized Scully, her face set with an intensity that suggested she was running away from something, not just for exercise.
She reached the stairs and almost collapsed against the railing, her breath coming in heavy, labored gasps. Mulder quickly got out of his car and approached her, concern flooding his senses.
"Scully?!" he called out, urgency in his voice.
She straightened up at the sound of his voice, letting go of the railing but still struggling to catch her breath. Mulder felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her.
"I am so, so sorry," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean the things I said."
Scully took a moment before responding, her voice steady but edged with frustration. "I think you meant them. You just didn't mean to say them out loud."
"Please, Scully, let me explain," he pleaded, stepping closer.
"I did not ask them to pull up that information on Diana," she snapped, her eyes blazing. "They told me that she went through my MUFON files. You may be okay with that, but I am not."
In that moment, the realization struck Mulder like a cold wave: this wasn't just about him and Diana. This was about Scully's trust being violated. Her anger wasn't solely directed at him; it was about her sense of safety and autonomy.
"I'm happy you can talk to her," Scully continued, her tone clipped. "If you'll excuse me." She turned on her heel, grabbing her side again as she climbed the stairs, her breath still uneven.
Mulder watched helplessly as she disappeared into the building, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He felt the weight of his words hang in the air, knowing that he had to find a way to fix this—before it was too late.