A Brave New World
Humility (3 of 4)

Washington DC
10:30 am

She didn't realize how much she'd missed the place 
until they were crossing the Potomac.  The latest 
blanket of snow clung to the lampposts and 
monuments, glazing everything with a snowy beard 
and all she wanted to do was head down Wisconsin 
and see if her apartment was possibly available for 
rent.  Hell, if not her apartment, maybe Mulder's.  
As a last resort, they could always camp out on 
Skinner's living room floor until they found a place.

She drew in a breath to dispel such thoughts.  
Running had become too much a part of her, it was 
time for her to stand up and face her demons.

"We have some time," he said, his voice breaking 
into her thoughts.  "Want to take a walk?"

Her eyes met his and she smiled.  "Sure."

Deftly he navigated the tourists and workers and 
found a parking spot near the Jefferson Memorial.  
The cherry trees ringing the tidal basin were months 
from blooming and stood in silent dark attention.  
Even Jefferson looked cold in his marble fortress.

Taking her hand, he led her to the bench -- their 
bench.  It sat there waiting, as if no time had passed 
since the last time they'd sought comfort and solace 
in the quiet setting.  He dusted the seat of the bench 
with a bare hand.  She settled down next to him, 
taking his freezing fingers into the warmth of her 
woolen-covered palms to warm them.

"So, is this seat taken?" he teased.

"No, but I'll have to warn you, I'm in a pretty 
pensive mood."

He licked his lips and looked out at the frozen pond 
of the basin.  "I did something yesterday and I'm 
pretty sure you'll find out anyway, so I might as 
well confess and take my punishment."  

She looked over at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"I went to the hospital.  I talked to the administrator 
-- Father Ybarra."  

Even his most pitiful guilt-ridden look did nothing 
to damper her fury.  "Mulder -- how . . . how could 
you?" she sputtered, dropping his hands.

"Scully -- you scared the shit out of me!  I come 
home to find you passed out at the kitchen table -- 
_my_ prescription of sleeping pills in your hand -- "

She sighed and shook her head.  "I didn't take them.  
I was just . . . "  She couldn't even finish the 
thought.

"Look I've been there.  I've felt that kind of pain.  
But Scully . . . why turn that on me?  Why use me 
to . . . to end your pain?"

"I wasn't . . . I wasn't thinking clearly, Mulder.  I 
never considered . . . I didn't take them, OK?"  She 
stared out at the ice and frozen cherry trees.  "Is that 
why you went to see Ybarra?" she asked.

"Not directly.  I wanted to find out why you were 
suspended.  I found the email on the table after I put 
you to bed."

"What did you say to him, Mulder?" she asked, 
trying to keep her anger in check.

"I just wanted to find out . . . why they sent you 
home."

"What did he say?"

Mulder looked down at his hands, still cold.  "He 
said . . . he said you were one of the finest clinicians 
he's ever supervised."

Scully looked over at him.  "He said that?"

Mulder nodded.  "But he said you have a problem -- 
"

"I get too attached," she said woodenly.

They were silent for a long time until Mulder finally 
turned to her.  "Scully, why did you go into 
pathology in the first place?"

"You're asking if it's always been a problem, my 
inability to distance myself?"  He said nothing, gave 
nothing away.  She tilted her head.  "It was 
mentioned -- during a few of my rotations.  But it 
wasn't why I chose pathology.  I liked doing 
autopsies, I liked finding the clues hidden in the 
body.  I liked . . . I liked the hunt."  She looked over 
at him.  "Makes me a bit of a hypocrite, doesn't it?"

"How so?" he whispered.

"I tell you that I don't like what your quest did to 
you, to us and then that's exactly what drew me to 
my field of work.  The hunt, the chase."

"I don't remember having to call for back up to get 
you out of an autopsy bay," he admitted with a self-
deprecating grin.

"No, you never did, but I could be just as 
obsessive," she said, looking away.  "It wasn't 
dangerous when I did it."

He reached over and took her hand.  "We're a pair, 
aren't we?" he asked.

She nodded, clasping her other hand over his.  "I 
don't know what I want to do, Mulder.  It scares me.  
I thought . . . I thought medicine, being a doctor -- "

"Scully," he sighed.  "I know it's what you wanted 
six years ago when our choices were so few, but if 
you could go back -- "

She shook her head.  "No.  Not all the way back.  I 
don't want that, Mulder.  I . . . I had more than my 
fill of middle of the night autopsies and tearing 
across the country.  I meant what I said -- I don't 
want that again."  She pulled their hands over to her 
lap.  "But if you . . . want part of that life back -- "  
She closed her eyes and felt the tears pricking at her 
lids.  "If you want that life back I can't stop you.  
And regardless of what I said, I will be there, at 
home, waiting.  I'll keep the darkness out if you 
keep coming back to me."

He let go of her hand only to pull her into his arms.  
"I will always and forever come back to you -- you 
should have figured that out by now," he said with a 
slight chuff of a laugh.

They sat there, warm in each other's embrace, for a 
long time.  Finally, she pushed out of his arms just 
to look at his face.  "When are you supposed to 
meet Skinner?"

"He said to meet him for lunch at Jimmy's, 11:30," 
he told her, wiping the tears from her cheeks before 
they had a chance to freeze.

"We'll never find parking on C Street at this time of 
day," she warned.  

"So we walk a little.  Not like we don't know the 
city," he smiled at her.

She stood and held out her hand to help him up.  
"Still, we better get going.  Wouldn't want to have 
to wait in line too long."

Jimmy's Deli
C Street between 2nd and 3rd SE
Washington DC
11:35 am

It was snowing lightly as they stepped in from the 
cold.  Scully stamped her feet and looked around 
the small dining room, finding Walter almost 
immediately.  He had a pleasantly surprised look on 
his face as they approached the table, pulling off 
hats and gloves.

"Dana!  I'm so happy you could make it," he smiled 
and reached out to give her a welcoming hug.  He 
shook hands with Mulder before waving them into 
seats.  "I took the liberty of ordering, but I can get 
back in line."

"No, that's fine.  I'll just share with Mulder," she 
assured him.

"Best pastrami sandwiches in the city -- get your 
own, girlfriend," Mulder teased, but winked over at 
Skinner.  "I might let you have my pickle -- well, 
half of it, maybe."  He took the paper cup Skinner 
handed him and looked down at her.  "Diet?"

"Just get me a small cup of water," she said with a 
shake of her head.  "You can get regular if you 
want."  He headed off to the self-serve drink 
machine and Scully slipped off her coat.  

"Do you want me to hang that up?" Skinner asked.  
He seemed to be ready to jump out of his skin to be 
the perfect host.  Scully had to hold back a laugh at 
his actions.  

"No, thanks, Walter.  It's fine on the back of the 
chair," she said with a smile.

"I didn't expect to see you," he said, licking his lips.  
"To be perfectly honest, I half expected you to 
come to DC and kick my ass for even suggesting 
Mulder get back in the game."

"The ass kicking did cross my mind," she replied, 
her expression turning grim.  "Consulting?"

"Scully -- he's still the best.  I spoke with at least 
half a dozen agents working on the Bannon case 
and all of them had nothing but praise for him."  
Skinner toyed with the paper from his straw.  "If I 
could, I'd lure him back to Quanitco to teach, but I 
know I'd have an easier time walking across the 
Potomac."

"He doesn't want to teach.  I tried to get him to 
consider teaching online courses, but he wanted 
nothing do to with it," she agreed with a sigh.  "He's 
been working on a book -- fiction.  In five years, I 
think he's about as far as making an outline."

Skinner nodded.  "So, are you OK with this?  He 
won't be happy if you're not happy."

Scully smirked at that.  "Oh, I don't know why it 
would stop him now," she said, idly toying with and 
then taking a bite of the pickle on Mulder's plate.

"What's stopping me?" asked the object of 
discussion as he handed her a cup of water with a 
slice of lemon.  He settled into his seat and glared 
down at his half eaten pickle.  "Here.  Don't say I 
never did nuthin' fer ya," he drawled, handing the 
remaining portion to her.

"Whether I'm happy with this new venture, 
Mulder," she said, taking the pickle and chewing off 
another good-sized bite.  "Walter was just saying 
that if I'm not happy, you won't be happy either."

"Listen to the man, Scully," Mulder told her.  "He's 
right."

She sighed and looked away.  Skinner shifted 
uncomfortably in his seat and rubbed his nose.  
Mulder played with the straw to his drink and 
forced a smile.  "How 'bout them Colts?" he asked 
no one in particular.

"Skinner!" called the man behind the counter and 
Walter jumped up so fast he almost toppled his 
chair.  "I'll get that," he said unnecessarily and 
hurried over to retrieve the order.

"Scully, you're being a wet blanket at our beach 
party," Mulder teased and touched the back of her 
hand.

She drew in a deep breath and met his eyes.  "I 
know.  And honestly, I don't want to be.  I just -- "

"Just what?  Don't want me to work?  I'm 47, 
Scully.  My days as a sex slave are numbered," he 
whispered.

She rolled her eyes but a smile tugged at her face.  
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," she whispered in 
return.  She leaned back and watched their old boss 
take his time getting napkins and condiments.  He 
was obviously afraid to come back to the table.  "Do 
we have to decide everything right now?  Can't we 
think about this for a little while?"

Mulder shrugged.  "Sure.  I mean, I just got my life 
back, I just got the ability to be seen in public again.  
We don't have to do anything today."  He fiddled 
with his straw some more.  "If course, it would be 
nice to get started -- "

She stuck her tongue in her cheek to keep from 
yelling at him.  Mulder on the quest, a dog with a 
bone -- she really couldn't see a whit of difference.  
But a tiny voice inside her pleaded for caution.  She 
did not want a replay of their argument in the 
hospital locker room and later in the hallway.  She 
wasn't going to revisit that one again.

Walter finally had nowhere else to go but to come 
back to the tense silence at the table.  "Uh, I got the 
hot mustard on the sandwich," he said meekly, 
pulling out his chair and sitting down.

"That's fine," Scully answered for them both and 
pulled the sandwich over, tearing the wax paper in 
half and putting half the sandwich on it.  She placed 
that half in front of her and slid the plastic basket 
containing the remainder of the sandwich at Mulder.  
She took two napkins from the stack Walter had 
brought to the table and handed one to Mulder, then 
picked up her sandwich and nibbled at the crust.

Mulder looked over at her and then down at his 
sandwich.  He glanced up at Skinner to see the 
forlorn look on his old friend's face.  "Eat, drink and 
be merry, for tomorrow -- ouch!" he yelped as 
Scully's shoe made forceful contact with his shin.  
"Sorry, wrong quote," he mumbled and finally got 
down to the business of eating.

Scully ended up eating only half of her half, placing 
the remaining portion in front of Mulder before 
wiping her mouth on her napkin and folding her 
hands on top of the table.  "Walter, what kind of 
cases would Mulder be consulting on?" she asked in 
her best interrogator's voice.

Skinner dropped his eyes and tried not to look like a 
rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a shotgun.  "Um, 
well, cases similar in nature to this recent missing 
person's case," he said, coughing slightly.  "Maybe 
some of the cases we're sent from LEAs that have a 
particular -- "

"X files cases," Scully said dryly with a nod.

"There isn't an 'X files' division anymore.  Since 
John Doggett was fired and Monica quit in protest -
- "

"They're in New York, I know," Scully interjected.  
"We get a card at Christmas and I'm sure it's 
Monica who sends me flowers on William's 
birthday but they're always anonymous."

"Yes, Doggett is a Captain with the NYPD and 
Monica is working with troubled youth.  But since 
their departure no one has worked these cases.  
They've been gathering dust -- just as they were 
when you found them originally," he said, turning 
to Mulder.

Mulder sighed.  "He was fired because of me," he 
murmured.  He looked away but felt her hand as it 
covered his.  Turning his palm over he squeezed it.  
"Remind me to send him a thank you," he told her 
and she smiled and nodded.  

"But we still get cases," Walter said, turning back to 
the original subject.

"Why not just assign full time agents?" Scully 
asked.

Skinner hesitated.  "It's not considered -- "

"It's the same old same old, Scully.  Not worth the 
manpower.  Agent Whitney as much as told me 
she'd been nosing around in them and look where 
that got her," Mulder said, folding his arms.

"Dead," Scully responded, and neither man would 
meet her gaze.

"Yes," Skinner said after a moment.  "But she 
wasn't experienced in the area, she'd basically been 
reading -- not really working any of the cases."

"If Mulder's only consulting, there has to be a 
supervisory agent," Scully reasoned.

Walter took a sip of his coffee.  "Yes.  Supervisory 
Agent In Charge Fossa.  She was Agent Whitney's 
direct supervisory."

"The blonde?" Mulder asked, sitting back to absorb 
this information.

"The woman who refused my call for help and I had 
to go over her head to get to you?" Scully seconded.

"That would be the one," Skinner admitted.  "I've 
had a few words with her on the subject.  In 
addition to Agent Drummy receiving a reprimand in 
his jacket, SAC Fossa has one to match.  But you 
should know that they will be in charge of all 
investigations."

"Well, that makes me feel so much better," Scully 
said bitterly and wadded up her napkin to toss it in 
the now empty basket in front of Mulder.

Mulder sighed.  "Scully has a point," he said with a 
shrug.  "Contrary to popular belief, I don't have a 
death wish.  If I do this and I did end up out in the 
field, I would expect back up or at least the cavalry 
to arrive in a timely manner."

"I know, believe me, I know.  And for the record, I 
tried to get it all back under my control."  He 
sighed.  "To be honest, I don't know how much 
direct help I can be.  I'm being considered for 
Deputy Director and making waves right now . . . "  
He bit his lip.  "I want to help.  I know you are the 
best man for this job," he concluded fiercely.

"We -- I want to think about it for a day or two, if 
you don't mind, Walt," Mulder said quietly.

"Sure, of course," Skinner said, trying hard to sound 
casual.  He glanced at the clock on the wall.  "I have 
a meeting in the Director's office -- I really need to 
get back.  But take some time, think it over.  I'll call 
you in a couple of days, if that's all right?"

"Sure," Mulder said.  

Skinner stood and Mulder and Scully rose to join 
him.  Scully stepped around Mulder and gave their 
old boss, and her friend, a hug.  "It was good to see 
you again," he murmured.

"You too.  You should come out some time.  The 
woods around the farmhouse are beautiful in the 
spring," Scully told him, giving his hand a squeeze.

He smiled and turned to Mulder, taking his friend's 
hand in a firm grasp.  "You have a lot of options 
available to you.  This is just one.  Think it over, do 
what you think is best for you."

Mulder smiled fondly.  "Was that an order or just 
friendly advice?" he teased.

Skinner smiled back.  "Friendly advice.  It's obvious 
that I don't give orders to you anymore," he said, 
tilting his head toward the woman beside them.  

Scully gave his comment an indelicate snort but 
Mulder nodded in agreement.  

"Take care, I'll be in touch," Skinner said.  Then he 
was out the door.

They sat there for a few moments while Mulder 
sipped idly at his drink.  "Well, I think that went as 
well as could be expected," he said, crumbling his 
napkin and stacking the garbage to be thrown away.

She frowned at him.  "What's that supposed to 
mean?"

He shook his head.  "Nothing.  C'mon.  Let's blow 
this pop stand."

The walk to the car was colder after being in the 
warm deli.  Mulder hunched his shoulders against 
the wind and reached his arm around Scully's waist, 
pulling her closer to him.

"I'm fine," she objected, but didn't pull away.  

"Sure you are.  You always are," he replied with a 
mischievous glint to his eyes.  She tilted her head 
up to meet his gaze and then snuggled closer into 
his side.

He unlocked the passenger side and let her in before 
hurrying around and getting into the driver's seat.  It 
wasn't until he had steered the car out into traffic 
that she spoke again.

"I want you to be happy," she told him, her voice 
trembling.

"I am happy," he replied firmly.

"You can't be happy, Mulder.  I saw you during this 
case.  You were -- you were excited, you were 
animated -- "

"I'm not animated at home?" he challenged.  "I 
thought I was pretty animated last night," he huffed 
under his breath.

"That's not what I mean," she retorted.  "And really, 
it's pretty much a moot point.  I -- until my own 
situation is resolved -- I shouldn't stand in your 
way."

He snorted.  "You really don't get it," he said 
shaking his head.  She turned toward him and raised 
an eyebrow so he continued.  "This isn't about me.  
This isn't even about you.  This is about us, Scully.  
Once, a long time ago you told me you were 
fighting for us when you believed I was giving up.  
Well, I now know how you felt.  Running was fine, 
we could do that together.  Now we have to figure 
out how to really live together with all the 
complications that brings."  He took his eyes off the 
road when they reached a red light.  "Father Joe said 
it.  Don't give up."

She bit her lip.  "I keep not giving up, Mulder and 
all it gets me is more heartache."  She turned her 
head so she was watching the slow going 
Washington traffic.  "If I lost you -- to the darkness, 
to death, to another quest that I couldn't follow -- 
that would kill me."

"So you feel better pushing me away -- losing me to 
your own self-interest," he said not unkindly.  She 
didn't turn back but in profile, he could see a tear 
slide down her cheek.

When her hand reached out he clasped it 
immediately.  She squeezed his fingers tightly.   "I 
don't want to lose you at all.  I'm sorry I said those 
things, I'm sorry I keep pushing you away.  That's 
not what I want and you have to know that.  It's just 
that -- Mulder, truthfully, I'm as lost as you are right 
now.  I don't know what do to.  You say you're 
happy at home but I know you aren't -- sitting in 
that little room, tossing pencils at the ceiling.  Well, 
I'm not entirely happy at the hospital, either.  I get . 
. . I get so caught up in the lives I'm dealing with 
and each defeat just tears at my heart.  Did you 
know that Christian's mother is just 24 years old?  
His father is 25?  They were children when they had 
him and they stayed together and they raised him 
and now he's gone and what do they have?"  She 
was crying hard now and it was difficult to get out 
the words.

He brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles.  
"Maybe they have what we have," Mulder 
answered.  "Each other."

She swallowed and gave him a small nod of the 
head.

"I saw you, too, Scully," he said after a moment's 
silence.  "I heard the message you left on my voice 
mail.  You were excited, you were 'animated' about 
this case.  And when you found that girl -- "

"Mulder, that girl would have died if someone 
hadn't acted immediately," she interjected.

"My point exactly!  Who would have saved her life?  
Me?  Skinner?  Agent Drummy?  Let's say you 
called out the troops but didn't get in the car, let's 
say you stayed at the hospital.  Cheryl Cunningham 
would be dead right now, Scully.  Skinner told me a 
little about her.  She's 34, she and her boyfriend are 
getting married in June.  She's an artist, a graphic 
artist.  You saved her life!  And mine," he added 
with a sly smile.

"So what are you saying, Mulder?" she asked 
quietly.

"Do this with me," he said all in a rush.  "We can 
consult together.  We can be choosy, we can cherry 
pick the cases we want to work.  Scully, we don't 
need money -- not any more.  I have access to my 
inheritance now, all the properties.  We wouldn't 
have to work another day, if we wanted to."  He 
looked out the windshield.  "I found out something, 
too.  I really don't want to do this without you.  I 
thought I could, when you gave me no other choice.  
I hoped I could.  But I can't."

"You did, Mulder.  You did it all without me."

"Scully, remember how you found me?  Two 
seconds from losing my head?"  He chuckled, but 
there was no humor in the sound.  "That's exactly 
what I was without you -- a chicken with my head 
cut off."

She snorted, but trembled slightly as a cold chill ran 
down her back from the memory of that shed and 
that axe blade so close to coming down on his neck.

"Without you, I go off and don't think and end up in 
trouble.  You know that, too."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the hand 
not holding tightly to his.  "I know," she admitted.  
"That's what scares me.  You needed me and I 
wasn't there."

"Do you think if we stand still for a minute we 
might catch this tail we keep chasing?" he teased.  

She huffed out a chuckle and looked at the passing 
streets.  "Mulder, where are we going?"

He smiled as he merged onto the B-W Parkway.  
"To see someone I haven't seen in a while -- and I 
think you need to see right now."

Maggie Scully's residence
Baltimore MD

After his knock, they saw the curtain next to the 
door part and then heard the deadbolt lock being 
turned.  Before either of them could say a word, 
Maggie Scully had taken them both in the house, 
hugging first her daughter and then Mulder fiercely 
before she could even close the door.  

"What are you both doing here?  Fox, what if 
someone saw you?" Maggie scolded as she peered 
out her door up and down the street, searching for 
panel trucks or snipers or whatever her nightmares 
had provided her most recently.  When she turned 
her attention back to her guests, she gasped in 
horror.  "Fox, what happened to your face?"  She 
reached up and gently touched the dark stitches just 
above his eye.

"It's nothing," he assured her.  "Car accident.  But 
I'm a free man, Mrs. Scully.  It's over.  I can come 
out in public now," Mulder assured her.  He took 
Scully's coat and his own and hung them on the coat 
tree next to the door.  

"Free?  I don't understand," she blustered.  "Now, 
wait, have you eaten?  I made a pot of soup 
yesterday and I froze it up but it won't take a second 
to reheat."

"Mom, we've had lunch," Scully objected.

"Soup?" Mulder piped in.  "That wouldn't be your 
famous potato soup by chance, would it?"

"As a matter of fact, it is Fox.  Come on back to the 
kitchen."  She hurried through the house as her two 
guests trailed behind.

"Mulder, you just ate," Scully chided.

"Three-quarters of a sandwich and no pickle," 
Mulder retorted.  "Besides, you know how much I 
love your mom's potato soup."

Maggie scurried around the kitchen, getting the 
soup out of the freezer, transferring it to a bowl and 
setting it in the microwave.  Glasses of ice water 
were placed before them and she produced a sleeve 
of crackers from the cabinet.  The microwave 
chimed and she placed the steaming bowl in front of 
Mulder, who happily dug in.

"Now, what is this all about?  What do you mean 
it's over?" she asked her daughter.

"Just what he said, Mom.  The Bureau dropped all 
charges against him.  He doesn't have to hide any 
more."

"Why would they do that?" Maggie blurted out and 
then realized how that sounded.  "I mean, they 
shouldn't have charged him with murder in the first 
place, I know that, but why are they dropping it 
now, after all this time?"

"They wanted my help," Mulder offered, between 
spoonfuls of soup.

"On a case," Scully added.  "An agent was missing 
and they needed Mulder's help to find her."  As 
always when dealing with her mother, Scully gave 
only the most abbreviated synopsis of the 
investigation.  "And in return for that help, they 
dropped all the charges.   He's even been 
approached about coming back to consult."

Mulder shot her a scornful look when she 
mentioned the offer of consulting, silently 
reminding her they hadn't really decided anything 
yet.

Maggie shook her head.  "This is a dream.  It has to 
be a dream.  You have no idea how long I've prayed 
for this happening -- that one day you'd come to me 
and tell me it was all a big mistake and it was over."  
She smiled broadly, but wiped at the corner of her 
eye.  "I'm so happy for you, Fox.  For both of you," 
she said, reaching out to squeeze her daughter's 
hand.  "Now you can get married!"

Mulder almost choked on his soup and Scully drew 
in a sharp breath.  "Mom, we, ah -- "

"Oh, not this very minute, of course.  A summer 
wedding would be beautiful.  And that would give 
Bill and Tara enough time to arrange for leave, so 
they can be here.  Charlie, too -- he might come 
home for that at least."

"Mom, we aren't -- I don't think we want -- "

"Dana, for crying out loud -- you've been living 
together for over six years, you had child together -- 
what are you waiting for?" Maggie huffed.

Mulder couldn't help but wince at the casual 
mention of their son, and when he looked over at 
his partner, he knew she had taken the blow much 
harder.  He had to cut off the attack before the 
damage was irreparable.

"We'll give it some thought, Mrs. Scully," Mulder 
interrupted and shook his head when Scully stared 
at him.

Unknowingly, he'd just marked himself a target.  
"Fox.  It's high time you started calling me 
Maggie," she scolded.  Taking his empty bowl, she 
put it in the sink.  For a terrible moment, it looked 
like she would take up the previous topic.  Mulder 
only hoped her daughter's bowed posture and bitten 
bottom lip would prevent that.  He sighed in relief 
when Maggie seemed to realize the minefield she 
was walking.  "I think I have a slice of pie in the 
refrigerator, if you're interested," she offered with 
forced cheer.

"No mas," Mulder pleaded holding his hands up in 
surrender.  "Thank you, but I think I'm ready to 
blow a gasket.  It was wonderful."

"Well, I can send some of that soup home with you 
-- if you put it in the trunk it shouldn't have a 
chance to thaw before you get home.  Unless you 
can stay the night?  Dana, I can make up the twin 
beds in your old room."

Mulder rolled his eyes and Scully simply put her 
hand over his on the table.  "We need to get back 
tonight, Mom.  Maybe next time.  Or maybe you 
can come out and visit us."

"That's another thing -- you could move back, now," 
Maggie suggested, sitting down across from 
Mulder.  "I mean, there's really no reason why you 
should have to live in the middle of nowhere 
anymore."

"Mom, I have a job.  I work at the hospital out 
there," Scully replied.

"But you could get a job at any of the hospitals 
around here, Dana.  Washington General, GUMC -- 
you know so many people over at Northeast 
Georgetown."

Mulder shuddered and Scully shot him a look that 
told him just how much she sympathized.  "I'm fine 
out there," she said quietly, not wanting to bring up 
the subject of her job or her level of satisfaction.

"Well, it's something to consider.  It would be so 
nice to have at least one of my kids close by.  It was 
about perfect when you were down in Georgetown -
- just a half an hour away."

Miraculously, Mulder steered the conversation to 
safer subjects, asking for an update on Bill's 
children and Maggie's activities with her church so 
the rest of the afternoon was spent in relative calm.  
When he noticed Scully checking her watch for the 
third time in less than fifteen minutes, he knew he'd 
have to take the initiative.

"Hey, don't we have to be getting on the road 
soon?" he asked and her immediate relief was 
almost a wave washing over him.

"Yes, yes, I have to be up early to be at the hospital 
in the morning," Scully said quickly. 

Maggie saw them to the door, smiling broadly as 
Mulder helped Scully on with her coat.  "Now call 
me when you get home -- I don't care how late.  
You know how I worry," she instructed Scully.  
Then she leaned up and kissed Mulder on the cheek.  
"I'm so happy to have this all behind us, Fox."

"Me too, Mrs. . . . Maggie," he replied, catching her 
frown just in time to correct his mistake.  Her grin 
got even brighter and that assured him he'd made 
the save.

"Watch the roads, it was cold today but we had 
some sun so the ice might have melted a bit and 
now it will be slick," she warned.  Mulder and 
Scully both waved as they got into the car.

"Well, that certainly went well," Scully griped.  

"Oh, I don't know.  I got a bowl of my favorite soup 
out the deal," Mulder shrugged, putting the car in 
gear and backing out of the driveway.

"She wants us to move back to DC, she's already 
planning a summer wedding -- with Bill in 
attendance -- oh, yeah, that was a great visit," 
Scully responded, folding her arms across her chest.  

"Want me to knock over a bank or two on the way 
home -- get back on the 10 most wanted?" Mulder 
deadpanned.

She snorted but a smile played on her lips.  She 
looked out the window at the darkening sky.  
"Thank you -- for not mentioning -- well, you 
know."

He sighed.  "I figured it was your place to tell her 
about the inquiry.  Besides, we'll know more 
tomorrow, right?  Why just worry her when there's 
nothing much to say?"

She nodded silently.  He snaked his hand over and 
patted her thigh.  She grabbed his hand and 
squeezed it tight.  They held hands until they were 
well on the road to rural Virginia. 

Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital
9:15 am

The day had dawned bright with no clouds in the 
sky.  Scully had often marveled at the blue skies of 
deep winter, how they could be so bold when the 
sun held only the slightest memory of warmth.  It 
was certainly the case that morning.  

The email she'd received had instructed her to arrive 
no later than 9:30 and that the board would be 
meeting in the hospital conference room on the first 
floor.  She locked the car door after exiting and 
made her way around the piles of frozen slush to the 
hospital entrance.

When they'd returned home, she and Mulder had 
gone straight to bed, holding each other through the 
night.  He'd offered, somewhat hesitantly, to go 
with her to the inquiry but she'd assured him it 
wasn't necessary.  She promised to call the minute 
she was out of the hearing.

She'd worn her most expensive pantsuit, navy blue 
wool, one she never would have indulged in on her 
government salary.  Not having to replace her work 
clothes every other week did have some advantages 
and Mulder had raved over it when she'd brought it 
home from a rare trip to see her mother.  Her silk 
blouse was royal blue, Mulder had picked it out on 
line and told her it matched the color of her eyes.  It 
was what had once been called a 'power suit' -- a 
suit of armor.  If she was going to the gallows, 
damn it, she was going to look like a million dollars 
on the way.

The board of inquiry was made up of the various 
chiefs of each of the specialties in the hospital and 
the three Viatorian Fathers who made up the 
Administration, Father Ybarra, Father Jeffries and 
Father James.  When she entered the room, her 
memory flashed back first to a conference room in 
the Hoover Building with a similar looking group of 
distinguished Assistant Directors and then to a 
cement walled prison room on a military installation 
with five jurists of unknown origin -- or species, 
save for Deputy Director Kersh.  She blinked the 
images from her mind as she pulled out the chair 
saved for her and sat down. 

"Dr. Scully, thank you for being so prompt," Father 
Ybarra spoke, his eyes shifting over the pages 
before him on the table.  "I believe you know 
everyone here."  He lifted his eyes to meet hers, a 
challenge or maybe to assess her composure.

"Yes, thank you," Scully said politely.

"We're going to go over your course of treatment 
for Christian Fearon and try to determine if 
anything you did could be considered negligent or 
reckless or more importantly, to be in the area of 
malpractice.  Also we have to determine if the 
hospital shares any possible liability from you 
actions, if it is proven that you were at fault.  We'll 
begin with Dr. Michels, Chief of Pediatrics.  Dr. 
Michels, the floor is yours."

Rural Virginia
12:45 pm

Mulder did one last push up and then flopped down, 
rolling onto his back.  It wasn't working.  He'd 
already run 7 miles, done fifty sit-ups and forty-five 
push-ups and he was still wired too tight to think.  
He glanced over at his cell phone, lying just inches 
from him in case it rang while he was trying to push 
himself into exhaustion.  Just to be sure he reached 
over and checked the screen.  No missed calls, no 
text messages. 

Damn.

Now he was sweaty and in the drafty house that was 
a recipe for disaster.  But he didn't dare take a 
shower in case she might call while he was cleaning 
off the sweat.  He opted to put on a sweatshirt and 
prowled the house one more time. 

Skinner had sent him an email with an attachment 
but he hadn't bothered to open it yet.  If it was a 
case, he didn't want to know.  The minute he 
opened it his mind would be occupied with it and 
not with her.  Today, until he knew Scully's fate, he 
didn't want anything to be a distraction -- at least 
not a distraction from which he couldn't easily walk 
away.

His stomach growled and he remembered he'd 
skipped breakfast for his long run.  He continued his 
path into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and 
started removing the makings of a sandwich when 
he heard the key in the front door.

He dropped the lunchmeat back on the shelf, closed 
the refrigerator door and hurried to meet her.

Scully was hanging her coat on the coat hooks by 
the door when he made it to the living room.  He 
opened his mouth to give her his usual greeting, but 
stopped short when he saw the tears marring her 
cheeks.

"Ah, Scully," he sighed and opened his arms.  In 
two steps she was there, encircling him and he 
wrapped her in a comforting embrace.  She sobbed 
into his chest and he kissed the top of her head.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Leading her over to the couch, he sat them down, 
her on his lap and let her continue to cry.  After a 
few minutes, she drew in a deep breath and calmed 
down.  She didn't speak immediately, just smiled at 
him through her tears.

"They determined that I wasn't at fault," she said 
hoarsely.

He cocked his head, confused at her reaction to 
news that he thought they wanted to hear.

"But the hospital administrators, Father Ybarra, 
Father Jefferies and Father James, determined that I 
should have referred the patient to a larger research 
hospital, such as Johns Hopkins, for such 
experimental treatment.  That by doing the 
intercostal stem cell therapy at Our Lady of 
Sorrows, I put the hospital at risk for liability."

He nodded, giving her time to tell her story even 
though it was killing him to have her drag it out so.

She sensed this and finally got to the point.  "In 
short, they ruled that I was not at fault in Christian's 
death and I will not be remanded to the state for 
removal of my license to practice.  However, by 
entering into an area of treatment that the 
administrators feel is not in our capacity and by 
doing so with full knowledge that the administration 
did not approve, I acted outside my contract.  I am 
no longer employed by Our Lady of Sorrows 
Hospital."

"They fired you," he whispered, not quite 
understanding.

"Yes.  Summarily discharged was the exact 
wording, but the result is the same."

"Oh a technicality," he murmured.

She snorted, bitterly.  "It took them 12 years for the 
FBI to get rid of you, Mulder.  I beat that by half."

He leaned down to place his forehead against hers.  
"Don't say that," he said, moving just enough to 
place a kiss above her nose.  After a moment, he 
hugged her tightly.  "Do you want something to eat?  
I know you didn't have breakfast."

She shrugged, but didn't voice any strong objection.  
He took the silence as acceptance of his offer.  
"C'mon.  I'll make lunch."

"Are you hiding Colonel Sanders in the kitchen?" 
she asked.  It was a weak attempt, but effective.  He 
smiled.

"As a matter of fact . . . "

They feasted on the leftovers from his run to the 
Colonel's a few nights before.  She was shocked 
when she found she could not only taste the food, 
but that it tasted pretty good, considering the fat and 
sodium content.  Even reheated.

"So, I was thinking," he opened the mealtime 
discussion.

"Now you're making me nervous," she shot back.

"You have time, I have time, I think we need to do 
something with all this time."

"If you have a point, Mulder, please feel free to 
come to it," she teased, half-hearted.

"I want us to go away for a few days," he said, 
wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin.

"Go away -- where?"

"Someplace warm and sunny and where they sell 
sunblock by the gallon," he said casually.

"A vacation?" she asked, showing obvious 
discomfort with the idea.

"Don't make it sound like a prison sentence, Scully.  
Think about it.  Hot, sunny beaches,  midnight 
walks along the ocean -- the only ice will be in your 
frozen margarita.  How about it?"

"Mulder -- we can't afford -- "

"Oh yes we can," he said with a wide smile.  
"Scully, between the money Mom and Dad left me, 
plus the houses, let's just say if you want ditch the 
Taurus and get a Beamer for your birthday all I 
really need to know is what style and color.  A little 
trip to the Yucatan Peninsula wouldn't even put a 
dent in the interest payment.  Besides, I think we 
deserve it."

She drew in a deep breath.  "Someplace on the 
ocean?" she queried.

"Palm trees, sand, and all the zinc oxide your little 
nose can handle," he promised with a wink.

She closed her eyes.  "I'll still be unemployed when 
we get back," she said sadly.

"And so will I.  But at least we'll be rested and we 
can face all our options," he reasoned.

Her smile was all the answer he needed.  He 
finished his lunch and ran off to his computer to 
find them the perfect retreat.