A few days later, Mulder stood in the chilly, fluorescent-lit morgue at Quantico. The faint antiseptic smell clung to the air as he leaned against the counter, casually flipping through the paperwork for his latest case. Across from him, a lab tech in scrubs and gloves reviewed the request he'd just handed over.

"So, you'd like Dr. Scully to do the autopsy?" the lab tech asked, glancing up.

"Yes," Mulder replied without hesitation.

The lab tech frowned slightly. "I'll see what I can do, but she usually doesn't work in the late afternoon. You might have better luck requesting one of the other pathologists on staff."

Mulder shook his head, his tone firm but polite. "If she's not available today, I'd like to wait until tomorrow."

The lab tech gave him a curious look. "Really? You're okay with waiting?"

Mulder smiled faintly, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Whatever this is I had exhumed has been dead for quite some time. Another day won't make much of a difference. And I'd really like Dr. Scully's opinion on this case."

The tech raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Alright, Agent Mulder. I'll pass the request along and see what I can do."

"Thanks," Mulder said, already turning to leave. As he walked out, he allowed himself a small smirk. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he felt certain that Scully's perspective was worth the wait.

The next morning, Mulder was seated at his desk, skimming through a stack of case files, when his phone rang. Without looking, he grabbed the receiver. "Mulder."

A familiar, measured voice greeted him. "Agent Mulder, this is Dana Scully."

Mulder straightened in his chair, caught slightly off guard. "Dr. Scully."

"I'm about to start the autopsy for your case," she continued, her tone professional but not unfriendly. "If you'd like to join me, I can give you some preliminary data as I work. That way, you won't have to wait for the full report, which could delay your case further."

Mulder blinked, momentarily surprised. This wasn't standard procedure. Most pathologists insisted on delivering their findings through formal reports, keeping agents well outside the lab until their conclusions were finalized.

"Uh… yeah, of course," Mulder said, recovering quickly. "I'll be right there."

"Good," Scully replied simply. "Meet me in Room 12."

The line clicked as she hung up.

Mulder sat back for a moment, intrigued. He hadn't expected Scully to call, let alone offer him such direct involvement. Grabbing his coat, he headed for the morgue, a small smile forming.

Mulder stood to the side, his camera clicking softly as Scully worked with practiced precision. She moved methodically, her gloved hands steady and precise as she cataloged her findings. Her voice was calm, clinical, but not detached as she spoke, noting observations into her recorder.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was efficient, yet thorough—completely immersed in the process. And, to his mild surprise, she seemed unfazed by his constant questions and the occasional flash of his camera.

"What about the way the tissue presents here?" he asked, gesturing toward the exposed area.

"It's consistent with the decomposition we discussed yesterday," she replied smoothly, barely looking up. "There's no sign of trauma that could suggest anything beyond the conditions I've outlined."

Mulder lowered the camera, thinking for a moment. "You're pretty patient, you know. Most pathologists hate having me in the room."

Scully glanced at him, her lips curving into a small smile. "I've noticed."

He grinned, taking another picture.

As she closed the chest cavity, she looked at him with a glimmer of humor in her eyes. "By the way, you completely misunderstood what I meant in my lecture about being open to extreme possibilities."

Mulder raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Did I?"

"Yes." She began cleaning her instruments. "What I meant was that there are usually a million rational explanations right in front of us before we ever have to turn to extreme possibilities. You seem to enjoy skipping over those."

Mulder smirked. "Maybe I just like shortcuts."

"Well, you're skipping past a lot of science."

After a few more exchanges and plenty of detailed input from Scully, Mulder finally said, "I'd like you to come to the crime site and have a look."

Scully hesitated, her movements slowing as she carefully removed her gloves. "I'm not sure that's possible," she said cautiously.

"Now, I heard afternoons aren't good for you, but… maybe… just this once. I'd really like to have your opinion on a few things we found at the crime site", Mulder added, his tone light but perceptive.

Scully paused, narrowing her eyes at him briefly. "Let me make one phone call. I might…" She trailed off, clearly trying not to encourage him too much.

As she stepped aside to make the call, Mulder pretended to busy himself with his camera, but he couldn't help catching bits of her conversation.

"Mom, something came up at work. Could you… Really? Thank you. Yes, I know you enjoy this." There was a short pause, and Scully's tone softened slightly. "Dinner? Sounds lovely, but I don't think I'll be that long. Thanks again, Mom. I'll see you later."

She returned, her expression professional once more. "I'm all set. Let's go."

Mulder watched her for a moment, still impressed by her efficiency—and maybe a little intrigued by the personal life he'd inadvertently overheard. He gave her a quick nod and grabbed his coat.

"Let's see what you think of the scene," he said, holding the door open for her.

The investigation at the crime site had been thorough, and now the sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows across the cemetery. Mulder and Scully sat on a weathered wooden bench near a cluster of gravestones, their voices low as they pieced together the puzzle.

"The positioning of the body matches the autopsy findings," Scully said, her tone thoughtful. "But the lack of disturbance in the surrounding soil… that's odd. Almost as if the body was placed there long after death."

Mulder nodded, resting his elbows on his knees. "Which would fit with the theory of post-mortem relocation. But why go to all that trouble?"

Scully glanced at him. "That's the part that doesn't add up. There's no logical reason for it unless the perpetrator wanted to obscure the time of death—or the location."

They fell into a moment of contemplative silence, the faint rustle of leaves around them the only sound. Finally, Scully straightened, brushing her hands on her lap. "I think we've got enough to go on for now. You'll want the forensic report to cross-check everything."

Mulder leaned back, watching her for a moment. Then, a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Can I invite you for a coffee and some pie? You know, for all your troubles."

Scully hesitated, a flicker of indecision crossing her face. "That's very kind of you, but I have to take a rain check. I really need to get home now."

Mulder nodded, his smile easy. "Rain check, then. Shall I take you back to Quantico or drive you straight home?"

Scully considered the options for a moment. "Quantico is fine. My car is there."

"Quantico it is," Mulder said, standing and offering her a hand. She glanced at it briefly before standing on her own, giving him a slight smirk.

They walked back to the car together, their conversation lighter now, but Mulder couldn't help wondering when he'd get the chance to cash in on that rain check.