Rifts
by Lovesfox
lovesfox@rogers.com

Headers in Part 1

~~~

Part 4 of 4

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.


Scully took a deep, hopefully steadying breath, 
lifting a hand to run through her hair.  Some of 
the urgency had left her, along with the adrenaline 
rush that had come with it, and she was suddenly 
very weary.  "Can we sit?" she asked, and gestured 
at her couch.

Mulder briefly jerked his head once in affirmation, 
and Scully sank down onto one end of the sofa with 
a little sigh.  He copied her a second later, sitting
stiffly at the opposite end, with the middle cushion 
an obvious and evident no-man's land between them. 
Though at least he was semi-turned towards her.

Staring at his partial profile, she could think of 
absolutely nothing to say.  All the words she'd had 
stored up had disappeared, apparently leaving with 
the last of her energy. 

Mulder sighed then, the tension visibly leaving his
body, and sagged into the sofa cushion's back.  She
watched as he lifted one hand and scrubbed it over
his face.  "Scully..." he murmured.  "I didn't...I
*don't* doubt you."  His hand dropped to his lap 
and he shrugged once more, an easy movement of his 
shoulders, signifying the end of that topic.  Then 
a lopsided half-smile transformed his face for a 
moment as he turned his head to look at her completely. 
"You *know* me, Scully.  I internalize."

He also used humor as a shield, or a deflector, Scully
mused to herself.  Just as she hid behind the staunch 
excuse of 'I'm fine', and did not tell him when she 
was not fine.

Pushing those thoughts away, her own smile was rueful.
"We both do, Mulder."

He nodded in agreement, his expression serious again. 
"I was so focused on the fact that you had gone 
without me...that I hadn't known where you were," he 
said somberly, "the rest...it just didn't register."

"Mulder," Scully spoke with equal somberness, her 
hands now tightly clasped.  "I understand that, I 
really do, but you have to understand that I can take 
care of myself.  That I don't need you to protect me." 
To ease the sting, she added, "To help me, yes, to 
back me up, yes.  *Always*.  But not to protect me."

Again she forestalled his protests before he could
voice them, by asking, "Mulder, do you think I am 
a capable agent?" 

His mouth gaped open like a fish before he sucked
in a breath and rushed out, "Yes, of course I do!"

"Then why do you doubt me, doubt my capabilities?"

More gaping, and then he was shaking his head.  "No,
no, no.  Never," he said rather vehemently.  And 
then more quietly, "It has been, and will always be
a privilege having you as my partner, Scully." 
Simple, yet utter sincerity.

His eyes held hers intently, and a second later he 
blurted out, "I can't lose you, Scully!" 
Immediately after, he looked away, off towards her 
window.  Clearly not in control of his emotions.

Scully had the impression that he had not meant to
say those words, and was perhaps embarrassed that
he had done so.  She was also somewhat stunned by 
his revelation, despite having halfway-suspected
deep down that might have been his motivation.

It really explained so many things -- particularly
his reaction and behavior after her trip with
Spender.  Even his demeanor when they were on a case 
in the field.  He was attempting to ensure he would 
not lose her -- in any way.

"Mulder," she husked out, her voice cracking on the 
second syllable.  "Oh God, Mulder, you won't lose 
me." 

Although she was still hesitant about touching him,
she diminished the physical distance between them,
one of their many rifts, by sliding across the sofa
until they were once again almost touching.

"I too, consider it a privilege, and an honor, to 
have you as my partner, Mulder," she told him.
Looking down at her lap, at her hands resting atop
her thighs, her peripheral vision caught sight of
Mulder's hands, similarly positioned upon his legs.

After the slightest of hesitations, she lifted her
hand and placed it atop his.  She smiled faintly as 
their fingers automatically entwined.  With her eyes 
on their quasi-linked hands, she said softly, "Even 
if they forcibly tear us apart, Mulder, I will *always* 
be your partner.  We'd find a way."

Mulder turned his wrist then, so that their hands
touched palm to palm, fingers lacing together again.
He squeezed, a gentle persuasion for her to look at
him, and she brought her eyes to his face.

Recognizing that he had something important to say,
something he found difficult it seemed, she sat
quietly, waiting.  Her body was tense though, her
nerves jangling.

He cleared his throat, paused, and then spoke. 
"Scully, I-"

Her phone rang then, the shrillness and unexpectedness
of the sound making both of them jump, and the moment 
was regretfully lost.  Scully nervously pulled her hand 
from his, and turned her head to stare at her portable 
phone, sitting on the coffee table.  But she made no 
move to answer it.

It rang three more times before her machine picked
up.

"Scully, you there?  It's Frohike," they heard through
her answering machine. 

As if she wouldn't recognize his voice, Scully thought 
to herself, even as she was making a mental note to 
change the setting on her machine, so that messages 
were not audible. 

Beside her, Mulder shifted restlessly, and she glanced 
back at him to see him looking at her answering machine, 
an expression of interest on his face.

"We found Mulder!" Frohike continued, drawing her 
attention to the machine as well.  A pause followed, 
with crackling sounds, and then, "Scully?  Can you 
pick up?  Scully?"  His next words were faint, sounding 
slightly smothered, as if his hand were covering the 
mouthpiece.  "She's not answering."

The phone was disconnected with a noisy clunk, her 
machine beeping a strident note.

Distantly, there was the sound of another phone ringing.
Her cell phone, which was in the pocket of her jacket,
hanging in the kitchen.  It wasn't necessary to speculate
on the caller.  After the call on her home line, she knew 
it had to be Frohike.

Scully turned back to Mulder fully, and he lifted 
his eyebrow in a silent query.  Her cheeks went pink, 
and the smile she gave him was self-conscious.  "The
Gunmen have been looking for you," she told him. 
"Monitoring the police bands and watching your accounts
and credit cards for any activity.  They even checked 
all the bars and hospitals in Alexandria and the 
surrounding area."

Mulder actually smiled at that, showing his teeth -- 
most likely at the combination of search locations.
Then the smile slid away and he asked, "How...how did
they..."

"How did the Gunmen know?" she asked for him.  She 
had expected the question, and hoped her reply did 
not stir up his earlier distress over her injury,
though the hope was a faint one. 

At his nod, she replied matter-of-factly, "I didn't 
know who else to call that night.  My mother was out 
of town, although I don't know if I would have called 
her even if she had been home, and I couldn't explain 
it to Skinner.  *Wouldn't* explain it to him."

His eyes widened at the mention of Skinner, even as
a frown down-curved his lips and caused deep lines 
on his face.

"I covered your ass on that one, partner," she said 
tartly, emphasizing 'partner'.  "I told him you were
checking some leads on a possible new case, and that
I was taking a few personal days."

"Thank-you, Scully," he said low-voiced.  He shifted
until he was leaning forward with his elbows on his
knees, hands dangling and eyes focused on his shoes.

Damn.  He was thinking about that night in his
apartment, she knew it.  "Mulder, please don't," she 
said, touching his arm.  Rubbing it gently.  "It's in 
the past, it's over."

"Scully, I *left* you," he said hoarsely.  "Alone 
and hurt."  He lifted his head to stare into her 
eyes.  "Was there a lot of blood?"

Scully thought about the sweatshirt she had thrown 
out, and the puddle on his floor that she had gone
back to clean, when she had hoped to find him there, 
and hadn't.  She couldn't lie though, he'd know. 
"You've broken your nose before, haven't you?" she
asked him.  Her question was actually an indirect
answer -- she was fully aware he had broken his nose
many years ago, and that he'd bled 'like a stuck
pig' as he'd so quaintly put it.

He winced, and touched the bridge of his nose with
an index finger, rubbing lightly.  "Yeah."

She didn't say anymore.  She could see that he 
remembered there had been a significant amount of 
blood by the look on his face.  "Mulder, I was a 
little freaked when I realized you were gone, yes," 
she said honestly, "but I think I understand now 
why you left."

The look on his face indicated he was slightly
taken aback by her statement.  It was possible he 
was comforted by it as well. 

"You do?"

Scully nodded.  She'd had plenty of time to think 
about it in the last day or so, and some of what 
they'd said in the last twenty minutes had 
clarified things.

It still hurt and angered her that he'd gone, but
she understood.  She accepted it -- had no choice
really, unless she was prepared to leave their
partnership.

She wasn't.

Though why he had felt it necessary to disappear for 
that length of time continued to bother her, and left 
her hoping that things would change now.  Particularly 
after the incident at his apartment, and because of 
their talk.

"You said it yourself, Mulder," she replied, leaning 
into him to butt him gently with her shoulder, hoping 
to coax a smile out of him. 

He moved with her, and even applied the same force 
in nudging her back, though he remained somber-faced.

Slightly heartened by that response, she continued,
repeating his words of earlier.  "You internalize," 
she said.  "You keep these things inside while you 
process them, and I got in your face, forced you to 
share them before you were ready.  And then when...
it...happened, you had to leave."

There was no need to clarify what 'it' was, neither
of them was likely to ever forget what had happened.

Scully had to stop and swallow a thickness in her
throat as she remembered that moment back in his
apartment when she had realized he was gone, briefly 
re-experienced that shock.  Clearing her throat, she 
explained further,  "Similar to the fight or flight 
instinct, you didn't want to argue with me or talk to 
me, so you ran."

"You *do* know me," was his slightly teasing, pleased 
response.  A slow half-smile curved his lips upwards, 
and this time it was he who nudged her with his 
shoulder.

Her heart rate sped up slightly, but her tone was
serious and contemplative.  Maybe even wistful. 
"After seven years, Mulder, I'd like to think I do."

"Better than anyone else ever did, or ever will,
Scully," he said in a near-whisper.

Despite the flutter that avowal caused within her, 
she was so tempted to ask 'Even Diana?'  But with
this fragile peace between them, she decided it was 
probably prudent to refrain from bringing up another
confusing, painful issue.

Aside from that sarcastic comment, she wasn't quite
sure exactly how to reply.  Mulder was obviously
discomfited by her continuing silence, for he was
moving restlessly beside her.

Finally she uttered a soft and heartfelt, "Thank-you, 
Mulder."

"It's the truth, Scully," he said.  Looking down 
at his feet once again, he continued.  "I know at 
the beginning of our partnership I often...held back, 
or deliberately kept you in the dark, but that was a 
defense mechanism.  I was protecting the X-Files, 
and protecting myself.  Protecting my heart."

He stopped, but did not seem to be finished.  Scully 
wondered if he too was thinking about Diana Fowley, 
and fought back both jealousy over the deceased 
woman's relationship with Mulder, and anger at Diana 
for how she had treated him. 

She reached out, found his hand, and squeezed once.
Offering her support.

He shot her a quick glance of thanks before resuming. 
"As you and I spent more and more time together, 
investigating cases, I found myself wanting to share 
more with you, Scully.  More about the X-Files...more 
of me."  This time when he looked at her, he held her 
gaze.  "But old habits die hard, Scully, and I could 
also see that you too held something back."

It was true.  She had.  Mulder wasn't the only one
who had been burned before, and had developed defense
mechanisms.  Scully quietly hummed her agreement, 
loathe to disturb his retrospection.

He heaved in a breath and exhaled noisily, then spoke 
again.  At long last confessing, or confirming, what 
she had already known.  "And I try to protect you."

Her eyebrows arched, she couldn't help it, and he
shrugged, smiling slightly.  "I know you can take
care of yourself, Scully.  You *are* a capable agent,
don't ever doubt it.  I just can't help it.  It's 
like instinct to me now."

How could she fault that?  Yet as his need to protect
her was instinct, so was her need to be seen as 
strong and independent.  Able to take care of herself. 

"I guess there are just some things we have to accept
about each other, Mulder," she remarked, not without
some sadness.  "As difficult as they may be."

It was Mulder's turn to hum, a low, quiet sound of
agreement, and then he sighed.

A few seconds of heavy silence passed.

"Come on, Scully," Mulder said lightly, nudging her
shoulder once again.  "Admit it.  When you said I
internalize, you really wanted to say that I brood 
too much, didn't you?"  A clear attempt to lighten 
things.

The smile that curved her lips was a natural one. 
He *did* brood, and she had been thinking that, to
a certain degree.  It seemed he knew her just as 
well.  She said as much, and watched a shyly content
look appear on his face.  She then added, "Wellll...
maybe I did want to say that, a little."

"Scuh-leee," he intoned mock-seriously, looking at 
her with teasing eyes.  "Come on."

"Fine," she said, her smile widening.  She was glad 
he seemed to have pulled himself out of the mood he 
had been slipping into.  "You brood.  So do I."

"Yep!" he agreed cheerfully, and she shot him a
droll stare, bumping his shoulder with just a bit 
more strength than last time.

A moment passed where they just sat and smiled at
each other.  Then Mulder lifted his hand to touch
his fingertips to her cheek, and asked, "Are we 
okay, Scully?"

"I think we are, Mulder," she replied softly, and
tilted her head, moving into his caress.

His hand cupped her cheek fully then, and he started 
to lean forward.

Her heart skipped a beat, and a panicky feeling 
of hope washed over her as she wondered if he was 
going to kiss her.

Please...

Eyes fluttering shut, she lifted her chin slightly,
also leaning forward.

The sensation of heat, and softness and...

Mulder's lips touched the corner of her mouth, 
butterfly-light, applying the barest of pressure.

Not nearly enough pressure.

Scully awkwardly managed to get an arm up, to curl 
her fingers around the nape of his neck, mutely 
compelling him forward.  At the same time, she 
leaned into him further and turned her face just 
enough so that their lips met full on full.

It was a sweet kiss, rather chaste, but all too
brief.

For they both pulled back at the same time, albeit
slowly and with obvious reluctance.  Her hand slid 
from his neck, to land on Mulder's left shoulder, 
while one of his hands somehow ended up resting 
lightly on her leg, just above her knee.

Their eyes met then, and they stared at each other 
in silent communication.  A shared connection -- 
deeper and stronger than ever before.

She felt oddly nervous, and even a little confused,
though.  After all that had happened in the last 
few days -- her trip with Spender and Mulder's 
reactions to it, their fight and Mulder's subsequent 
disappearance -- she hadn't expected this. 

She hadn't expected them to kiss, or to want to 
kiss him again.  Not right then, anyway.

Mulder leaned back a little bit more, still looking
at her, and Scully watched a smile blossom across 
his features.  She smiled back, realizing she was 
also feeling ridiculously giddy.

A second later he said, "The world still didn't 
end, Scully."

Quick flashback to a hospital waiting room on New
Year's Eve, the two of them watching the countdown
on the TV bolted to the wall.  Mulder looking at 
her, and leaning down towards her, she just knowing 
he was going to kiss her.  Feeling nervous and 
surprised and anticipatory all at once.

"Mulder," she began, a little affronted he had 
cracked a joke.  Then she stopped before she could 
form the rest of her protest, and laughed.

It was so him...so *them*.

"Yes, Scully?" he replied in a serious tone of 
voice that was belied by the grin on his face and
in his eyes.

"Nothing," she said.  "Just Mulder."  Impulsively,
she brought her other arm up and threw it around
his other shoulder, hugging him.  His arms came up
and encircled her waist a moment later. 

Sitting beside each other as they were, it wasn't
a full-on hug, and was in fact rather clumsy.

Still, it was nice, and comforting, and it felt 
right.

Mulder shifted, sliding closer to her, the length
of his thigh pressing firmly into hers.  She felt
his hands tighten on her waist, as he seemed to
be using his body to direct hers.  To turn her
towards him, pulling her into him.

Scully had a split second to imagine that he was 
trying to pull her onto his lap, to begin forming 
a picture of...

THUD.  THUD.  THUD.

Loud pounding at her door.

They sprang apart, Mulder actually scrambling to
his feet.  She followed more slowly, slightly
unsteady, and the thuds were repeated, with an
added feature.

THUD.  THUD.  THUD.

"Scully!  You in there?"

Frohike.

Scully hurried to open the door before the obviously
worried little man pounded on it again, thinking of 
her neighbors and all the things they had tolerated. 
Barely. 

Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, it jiggled,
and the door was flung open.

Fortunately she had stepped back in time to avoid
being hit by it, her heart pounding. 

Frohike's eyes bugged open wide behind the thick
lenses of his glasses, mirroring her surprise and
yes, her fright.

"Uhhhh...oh, man.  I'm sorry, Scully!" he got out, 
his eyes running over her from head to toe, as if 
ensuring he had caused no bodily harm.

She shook her head and said, "It's okay, Frohike,"
just as she spied Byers and Langly behind him, 
their gazes already focused over her shoulder.
On Mulder.

She knew when Frohike had found Mulder too, for his 
eyes narrowed, his lips forming a snarling grimace. 

Like a heat-seeking missile locked in on its target,
he started to charge forward. 

Scully stepped quickly after Frohike, saying his
name once in a quiet voice.  Surprisingly, or maybe
not so surprisingly, the little man stopped.

Upon reaching his side, she laid her hand lightly
on his forearm, feeling the tension in his body,
radiating out in angry waves.  "Frohike," she said
his name again, still speaking quietly and evenly.
"It's all right.  Everything's fine."

She was very touched by his obvious concern for 
her welfare, and his protectiveness.  Frohike's 
attraction to her, his affection for her, had been 
something she had never taken seriously, something 
she had attributed to her position as Mulder's 
partner.  Something Mulder had often teased her 
about.

She had only fleetingly considered that in fact it
went deeper -- that she was also his friend.  That 
was a great disservice to Frohike, one for which 
she was deeply ashamed.  She vowed to herself to 
make it up to him somehow.

The muscles beneath her fingers bunched, and Scully
thought Frohike was going to charge at Mulder again.
She was prepared to repeat her assurances, but 
Frohike did not move.

Until she took her hand away, thinking he had calmed
down.

She had only backed away one step, intending to ask
Byers and Langly to come all the way in, and to shut 
the door behind them, when Frohike made his move.

Faster than she would have thought him capable, 
Frohike was in front of Mulder, mere inches 
separating them.  Standing toe-to-toe as they were 
emphasized their size differences.  Scully could not 
help the brief flash of amusement at the obvious 
David and Goliath scenario, despite the gravity of 
the situation, and mentally chastised herself for
the thought.

The little man thrust his chin forward pugnaciously,
and with a scowl on his face, loudly demanded, "Where
the hell have you been, punk-ass?"

Mulder stiffened, and his hands, which had been
hanging loosely at his sides, tightened into fists.

Though the two men were several feet away from her,
Scully could easily read the expressions crossing
Mulder's face.  Initially she had seen amusement, 
but it was quickly replaced by frustration and 
annoyance, and on their heels, anger.

The last one worried her.

She had never fully understood Mulder's relationship
with the trio, actually knew very little of how it
had come into existence.  But she did know that 
Mulder considered them very good friends, and counted 
on them a great deal.

However, Mulder could be obstinate and difficult
when faced with his own errors in judgment -- as
evidenced not too long ago.  It was somewhat 
frightening to think that his friendship with 
Frohike, and by extension with Byers and Langly, 
could be destroyed because of stubbornness and 
misunderstanding.

Before she could move over to them, to be close in 
case things got out of hand, Mulder replied.  By his
carefully chosen words and quiet, controlled voice,
Scully realized her partner had obviously come to 
the same or a similar conclusion. 

"I needed some time away to think, Frohike," Mulder
said.  He did not step back from the angry little
man, but his stance had become open and non-
confrontational.

Frohike didn't relent.  "She was hurt!" he growled.

Both she and Mulder winced -- her injury was a sore 
spot for him.  His eyes flicked from Frohike's face
to hers, and she wasn't quite sure if he was asking
for her assistance, or just checking on her, on her
reactions to Frohike's statement. 

Byers and Langly chose that moment to finally enter
her apartment, shutting the door quietly.  She 
looked over at them, to see that Byers seemed worried,
and Langly's expression was inscrutable.  At that,
she took those steps necessary to bring herself 
within a foot or two of Mulder and Frohike.  Neither
of whom glanced in her direction at all.

"I didn't know that, Fro," was Mulder's response,
quietly spoken, but full of emotion.  Shame that he
had not stayed to ensure she was not hurt, and pain
for knowing that he had left when she had been.

"Why the hell didn't you check?"  Frohike asked, his
voice still sharp.  Without giving Mulder time to 
reply, he then somewhat repeated himself in a slighter
quieter tone, "You shoulda checked."

Scully sensed that the majority of Frohike's anger
was gone, but thought with some regret that there 
might be some lingering strain between the two. 
Hopefully not for long.

"Hindsight, Frohike," Mulder said plainly.  Guilelessly.
"I should have checked, but I didn't.  I ran."

Something reached Frohike, whether it was the words
themselves, or those emotions.  He deflated a little,
his shoulders slumping, and then he heaved out a
sound that was half-sigh/half-groan.  "Mulder, man,"
he muttered.  "Leaving like that, it wasn't a good 
thing."

"I know, Fro, I know," Mulder replied.  He said no
more, offered no further defense.

Frohike turned his head to look at her, then back at 
Mulder.  "You two okay?" he asked.

Mulder also looked at her, though he did not turn
back to Frohike when he answered simply.  He kept 
his eyes locked on hers.  "Yes."

She echoed him softly, holding his gaze as well. 
"Yes."

"Then my work here is done," Frohike said, nudging
Mulder lightly in the ribs, sending her an awkward
grin, obviously wondering how she would take his
attempt at humor.  At her small answering smile,
his grew more natural.  He winked at her, and then
turned back to Mulder.  "We'll talk more later, man."

"We will," Mulder agreed, and offered Frohike his
right hand.

They shook, Mulder clapping Frohike's other arm with
his other hand, and then they were all at her door.

Byers and Langly both exchanged nods with Mulder,
shook his hand, and then the Gunmen left.

Scully shut the door slowly, unsure if Mulder was
planning on staying.  When he said nothing to stop
her, she turned the lock and gestured toward the
kitchen.  "Do you want something to drink, or can
I fix us some lunch?"

"That would be great, Scully," was his response. 

"Actually, I think that should be 'we'll fix some
lunch', shouldn't it, partner?" she asked him as
she walked by, throwing him a teasing look.

"I'm with you," he said with mock-cheerfulness.
And then more softly, emotionally.  "Partner."

~~~

Epilogue

Two Weeks Later

X-Files Office
Friday
5:50 pm

It wasn't until after Scully had packed up her 
laptop, and was slipping into her trench coat that 
Mulder called to her softly. 

The last hour had been an almost entirely silent 
one, albeit a companionable one, with both of them 
caught up in their respective reports.

"Scully?"

She paused mid-sleeve and looked up.  "Hmmm?"

"You doing anything tonight?" he queried, his face
blandly open.  Mildly curious, perhaps.  He was 
sitting with his chair leaning back, feet propped 
on the edge of his desk and ankles crossed.  His
shirtsleeves were rolled back and his tie was askew. 
A file folder was opened on his lap, while one hand 
toyed with his pen.  Idly, absently twirling it. 
Walking it through his fingers.

"Nothing in particular," she replied, shrugging her
coat into place, one hand coming up to straighten
the collar.  "Heading home to relax, I guess."

"Oh."

A simple response.  A simple word.  One that could
mean anything, mean everything.  Or nothing at all.

Scully waited expectantly, but he said nothing
further.  In fact, he went back to studying the 
case file.  His report on the Crittendon case. 

She herself had just finished her final report on 
their supposed female serial killer, who had turned 
out to be a cross-dresser who had 'saved' the
missing prostitutes and set them up in a half-way 
house.  The case she had completed by herself 
after Skinner had sent Mulder on another case.

Things between them had been better, if a little
tentative, since their talk at her apartment two 
weeks ago, but Mulder had been strangely quiet since 
coming back from Vermont the day before.  She knew 
something was on his mind, but hadn't yet been able 
to force herself to ask him exactly what that was. 

Perhaps this was an opportunity now.

"How about you?" she asked, after a long silent
moment spent studying his bent head.

Mulder glanced up briefly, shrugging his shoulders.
"The same," he answered, and then returned to his 
file.

Or perhaps it was not.

With an inward sigh, Scully grabbed her briefcase
and laptop case and turned to go.  "Night, Mulder,"
she said quietly, and headed to the door.

Her hand had turned the doorknob, she had actually
stepped over the threshold of the now opened door,
when he spoke again.

"Scully?"

She stopped, but did not turn around.  "Yes, Mulder?"

"What if I were to drop by around eight or so, with
a pizza, maybe a movie?" 

Scully smiled.  "Make it 7:30."

~~~

THE END

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