...Where It Hurts (Sequel to "She Loves Me Not") (2/3)
by Jo-Ann Lassiter
Email Address: jolassi555@cs.com 
Spoiler Warning:  None
Rating: PG-13 
Classification: S, A
Key Words: Mulder/Scully Romance
Summary: Scully has told Mulder that she loves him. Yet, when her
actions contradict her words, doubts are raised in Mulder's mind.
Author's Notes: There is the bare bones of an X-File here... just
enough to advance the *real* story, which is the romance between
M&S. Please don't look for any lengthy explanations of the
"monster" because there won't be any. What there will be, however,
is lots and lots of characterization. I hope you enjoy it!
Thanks: To Martha and Rachel for their help, and especially to
Gerry for putting up with numerous read-throughs and not
complaining (much).

Twin Forks Lodge
Aurora, Colorado
Outside of Denver
Thursday
7:39 p.m.

Mrs. Agerson smiled across the dining room table at Mulder. He
returned the smile, but his heart wasn't in it.

She frowned in puzzlement. "I do wish your young lady could have
joined us."

Mulder sighed. So did he. "She had to go to dinner with our boss,"
he said, trying to make it sound very unlike the personal affront
he felt it as.

"And what about you? You didn't have to go? Or are you still not
feeling well?" Her face took on a cast of motherly concern.

"No, no, I'm fine," he said quickly. If she knew he wasn't feeling
too hot, she'd comfort him to death, and Mulder just wanted to be
left alone in his anger and misery.

He still didn't understand how Scully could do that to him. After
all her words, all her promises to the contrary, there she was on
another date with Andrew Perkins, and here he was. Alone. 

Again.

He was beginning to feel like a spouse who was being abused, yet
kept making excuses for his abuser, even to the point of feeling
that he was somehow to blame for and deserving of, that abuse. But
Scully wasn't abusing him; she was merely torturing him. 

"Leave the boy alone, Martha." Mr. Agerson's deep rumble of a voice
made Mulder jump. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder," he said, and Mulder
noticed that Agerson had softened his voice to a more
conversational level. "But you're about the same age as our son,
and she misses him."

Mulder was almost afraid to ask. "Where's your son now, sir?"

"He lives in Virginia." One corner of Mr. Agerson's mouth quirked
in a smile. "He works for the FBI in Washington."

Mulder stared at him a moment, then blinked, searching his memory.
He came up blank. "I don't think I've ever met him."

Mrs. Agerson shook her head. "No, you probably wouldn't. He works
in Forensic Science."

"He's a pathologist?" Mulder asked, surprised.

"Why, yes!" Mrs. Agerson was beaming. "He doesn't actually work in
Washington, but at that Quarry place."

"Quantico?" Mulder asked.

"Quantico! Yes! That's it. He works at Quantico."

Mulder ran through the repertoire of pathologists currently
employed at Quantico; he still couldn't come up with a match. "I
thought I knew all the pathologists out there. What's your son's
name?"

"Jim." At Mulder's blank look, she blushed. "Oh, how silly of me.
His name is Jim Vernon. I was married to his father only a year
when he was killed. Ted..." She motioned to her husband. "...is the
only father he's ever known."

A picture of a tall, slim, dark-haired man appeared in Mulder's
mind. He couldn't prevent a smile; Mrs. Agerson's fussing over him
made a lot more sense now.

"I see you know who he is," Mr. Agerson said with a smile.

Mulder nodded. "He works with my partner sometimes." At Mrs.
Agerson's look of bafflement, Mulder explained. "She's a
pathologist, too."

The woman looked more bewildered than ever. "I thought she was a
field agent."

"She is. She's both."

Mrs. Agerson looked thoughtful. "What's your partner's name again?"

"Dana Scully."

She clapped her hands in delight. "Of course! And you're her
partner! Then you must be--" She stopped short and covered her
mouth. "Oh, my."

Mulder looked down at his shoes. He liked these people, and they
seemed to like him--until Mrs. Agerson made the connection that Fox
Mulder and "Spooky" Mulder were one and the same. With Scully off
God knew where, he'd appreciated the companionship of the older
couple. Well, the honeymoon had to end sometime; he stood up.
"Um... thank you for supper, Mrs. Agerson." He nodded to the older
man. "Mr. Agerson." Turning away, he headed for the doorway.

"Mr. Mulder?"

He stopped walking, but didn't face the woman. "Yes?"

"My son is very impressed with your partner. And with you."

Mulder nodded. "Jim's a good man, too," he said, quietly.

A chair scraped the floor behind him, and a second later he felt
Mrs. Agerson's hand on his arm. "I've made you uncomfortable. I'm
sorry."

Mulder forced a smile. "No... you didn't," he lied. "I... I'm
tired, and you were right. I don't feel well. I'm going to go up to
bed," he said softly, starting away again.

"Mr. Mulder." Mr. Agerson was back to the booming voice. Mulder's
feet responded to the voice of authority and stuck to the floor.

He turned around to face the man. "Yes, sir?"

Mr. Agerson stuck out his hand.

Cautiously, Mulder took the offered hand; Agerson pumped it until
Mulder thought his arm would snap out of its socket. "I'm proud to
know you, Mr. Mulder," the man said, finally releasing him.

Resisting the urge to rub the ache out of his shoulder, Mulder
squinted in confusion. "Sir?"

"Despite the impression we may have given you, my son speaks very
highly of you. I would even go so far as to say that you amaze him,
and let me tell you, that's quite an achievement."

Mulder felt himself blushing. Until now, he'd never given Jim
Vernon a second thought. That the man should gush over him to his
parents... Mulder was at a loss. "I..." He couldn't think of a
thing to say.

Mrs. Agerson shooed her husband away, taking Mulder's arm. "Come
on," she said gently. "I think you need a nice soft bed. It looks
like even super profilers aren't exempt from getting sick."

"I'm all right," Mulder protested, as she led him through the
house. "It's just a cold."

"A cold can be as bad as the flu if you're not used to this
altitude," she told him, and he believed her. He felt rotten, yet
he wasn't altogether certain it was due to the cold. Where was
Scully? She'd made a promise, then she broke it and left him, sick
and alone. 

Would she do that if she loved him? Would she leave a man she loved
to go out with a man she didn't love?

No, Mulder concluded with a heavy heart. 

She wouldn't.

*****

Twin Forks Lodge
Aurora, Colorado
Friday
2:47 a.m.

Mulder rolled out of bed and tottered in the direction of the
bathroom. Man, he felt really out of it. Maybe taking green stuff
*and* aspirin wasn't too smart. He had to douse his face with cold
water before he felt confident enough to be able to use the toilet
with any degree of accuracy.

After he finished, his eye caught the other door, which lead to
Scully's room. Offhandedly, he realized that he'd forgotten to lock
it. Jesus, wouldn't his face have been red if Scully had decided to
pop in while he was relieving himself? 

And then he felt that tightness in his chest. Was she even here?
Very tempted to open the door and assure himself that she'd at
least come back, he swallowed hard and pivoted away, afraid of how
he might react if her bed was empty.

Turning the faucet on, he washed his hands, then left the cold
water running. Opening the medicine cabinet, he shook out two
aspirin tablets, swallowing them with a few mouthfuls of the water.
"Ow," he moaned, as the second tablet made its way down his throat.
Great, he, thought. Sore throat. What would be next?

As he shuffled back to bed, he wondered how late he could show up
for work and still be on time. He really wished he could afford the
luxury of calling in sick. Could Jonas shoulder the load without
Mulder's help? Maybe working together, he and Scully would be able
to--

Mulder stopped walking and closed his eyes.

Oh, God, how was he going to survive without her? 

"Mulder?"

Mulder's eyes snapped open, and he looked around wildly. Was he
hallucinating? The room was empty.

"Mulder?" her sleepy voice called again, and this time he located
her. In his bed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"What... What are you doing here? I thought..." His head swiveled
in the direction of her door, then returned to her pajama-clad
body. His eyes narrowed. "Why are you here? Why aren't you with
'Andy?'" He heard the nasty ring to his voice, but he wasn't too
concerned with her feelings at the moment.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "You were asleep when I got back,"
she said quietly. "Mrs. Agerson said you'd gone to bed early, that
you weren't feeling well." Her eyes clouded over with concern and
sorrow. "I tried not to wake you, but I didn't have to worry. You
were out like a light." She smiled. 

"You didn't answer my question," he said flatly.

"Mulder, I know what it looks like, but--"

"You don't want to hurt him." Mulder had heard his fill of that
particular excuse. How many more times would he hear it? How many
more times would he let her use it? If she wanted Perkins, she
could have him. Mulder was through being jerked around.

Standing was becoming too much of a chore, and he made his way to
the bed on shaky legs. Scully reached for him as he neared the bed;
he shook out of her grasp. "Save it for your boyfriend," he spat. 

"That's not fair, Mulder," she said in a low voice. 

"Not fair?" His voice matched hers in quiet intensity. "What's not
fair is coming back here by myself. What's not fair is making a
promise you had no intention of keeping. What's not fair is you
going out with someone when you're supposed to love me! Now, what
are you doing in my bed?" he shouted as loud as his scratchy throat
would allow.

"What's wrong with your voice?" she asked, and he wondered if she'd
heard anything he'd just said.

He closed his eyes in frustration, and bit his trembling lip.
Jesus, what the hell was happening to them?

"I told Andy to leave me alone."

He opened his eyes and looked at her in surprise. "I'm listening."

"I told him I wasn't interested in him, that I would no longer be
available for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or anything else. I told
him that I loved my partner."

Mulder was still too numb to respond. He'd steeled himself to the
fact that Scully would be gone from his life, and it was hard to
fathom her words to the contrary. Yet he'd heard them before,
hadn't he? Too many times. He stared into her eyes, so full of love
for him, and he felt nothing.

"I feel like shit. I'm going back to sleep. You can stay, or you
can leave. I don't much care either way." He lay down, his back to
her, and pulled the covers up to his neck. 

"Mulder, please listen..." He heard the tears in her voice. The
only effect they had was to make him annoyed.

He shifted until he was facing her. "I *have* listened. I've
listened and I've listened and I've listened. You go out with him,
you say you're sorry. You go out with him again, and again you're
sorry. You go out with him, you're sorry, you go out with him,
you're sorry. Well, I'm sick of it. The next time you go out with
him, don't bother coming back."

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "There won't be a next time."

At that moment, he felt something toward her he never in his life
thought he'd feel: he hated her. "I've heard that before," he
hissed, letting what he felt creep into his eyes. "Scully, why
don't you just get out of here? I'm tired and I'm sick and I've had
enough of your bullshit."

Her eyes filled with tears, spilling over onto her cheeks. "You're
right. You're absolutely right. I never should have let it go on
this long. I should have told him that first night."

He propped himself up on one elbow, gaining strength with his
anger. "Do you know why you didn't? Do you want to know why you
didn't?" He didn't pause long enough to give her the opportunity to
answer. "Because you liked it. You liked that he was paying you all
that attention, and you liked knowing that it was making me crazy.
You liked stringing me along, twisting that knife again and again,
just to see how I'd react. You liked the fact that I loved you,
that I'd do anything, even let you date another man, rather than
lose you. Well, guess what, Scully? You lost me."

A look of utter despair came over her face, and he knew that
however much he might despise her, however much she hurt him, there
was no denying that he loved her and always would. He reached over
and pulled her against his chest. "God help me, but I love you,
Scully. No matter how much I loathe you at this moment, I do love
you." As suddenly as he had drawn her to him, he let her go. "Now,
please, just get the hell out of here."

She turned to go, then stopped. "Mulder?" He read fear, and he read
hope, in her eyes.

He shook his head. "I don't know," he answered honestly, uncertain
whether their relationship could be saved. He felt battered, and he
felt used, and she was the one who made him feel that way. Suddenly
drained of all strength, he lay back down and let his eyes close.
He really felt like crap.

God, how he wanted Scully lying beside him, comforting him. Yet, he
was certain that her touch would only burn him. She'd been burning
him the entire trip.

"Mulder?" Her hand on his brow didn't scorch him; in fact, it felt
cool and welcome. 

"Leave me alone, Scully," he mumbled, his resolve waning along with
his health.

"You're sick, Mulder." Her hand caressed his cheek, wiped the sweat
off his forehead.

"It's only a cold." His voice was reduced to a whisper. God, her
hand felt so good. "Leave me alone, Scully." He was practically
begging her not to go.

"Have you taken anything?" she asked, and he heard the switch to
doctor-mode. 

"Couple aspirin just now. Cold medicine last night."

Her hand settled on his forehead. "You feel like you have a fever.
Anything else? Nausea, dizziness, sore throat?"

"No." He heard the hoarseness in his voice, and he knew she heard
it, too. In some strange way, he felt that by refusing her help he
was hurting her, and that felt good. 

Yet it didn't, really.

He wanted her lying beside him, holding him in his misery,
whispering comforting nonsense in his ear... He wanted her to love
him. 

He wanted to believe that she loved him; he wanted it so badly that
he didn't stop himself from moaning her name, from reveling in the
feel of her arms when they encircled him. No protest was lodged
when she settled beside him and pulled him to her breast. The
thought never entered his mind not to snuggle into her warmth. And
it never occurred to him to refuse her lips when they descended
upon his. 

Was he setting himself up for more heartache? Would she be the one
to finally break his heart beyond repair? 

He fell asleep convinced that his mind never even entertained these
thoughts.

*****

Denver Field Office Basement
Friday
1:53 p.m.

As Mulder sneezed for what must have been the thirtieth time in the
last ten minutes, he thought that perhaps Scully's flat-out
forbidding him to accompany her and Jonas to interview witnesses
wasn't such a bad idea after all. He reached for another tissue and
was dismayed to find that the box was empty.

Another sneeze was building, and through watering eyes Mulder
sought out the leftover napkins from their earlier trip to
McDonald's. He found them just as the sneeze let go. When the rough
surface of the napkin rubbed against the tender skin of his nose,
Mulder gasped; it was like blowing his nose with sandpaper. 

Ladies room, he thought. Toilet paper. Women's restrooms must have
soft toilet tissue. Right?

He felt a little unsteady when he stood, but he pushed it down
until he felt as well as he had a right to feel with such a
miserable cold. Walking to the door, he stretched, trying to work
out a few of the kinks he'd gotten from sitting for so long. His
hand closed on the doorknob, and he was shocked when the door was
pushed inward, narrowly missing his head. 

Perkins stood before him, looking as surprised as Mulder felt.
"Agent Mulder! My god, I'm sorry. Are you all right? Did I hit
you?"

Mulder shook his head. He wasn't sure if he was more surprised by
Perkins' presence or by the fact that the man seemed genuinely
concerned that he'd almost beaned him. The two men stared at each
other for a second, then Mulder said, "Dana's not here."

The ASAC nodded. "I know. She and Jonas checked in with me before
leaving." Perkins looked down at the floor before meeting Mulder's
gaze again. "I, uh, actually wanted to talk to you." 

The itch in Mulder's nose was threatening again; the last thing he
wanted to be doing was facing down a rival while sneezing like a
fool. He cleared his throat, trying to chase away the sneeze.
"Now's really not a good time. I was just heading out."

"Oh." Perkins sounded so disappointed that Mulder relented. He felt
certain he'd regret it, but the man looked like he'd lost his best
friend. 

And then Mulder realized that maybe he had. "I guess it can wait,"
he said quietly, gesturing the ASAC in. 

Perkins looked so grateful that Mulder almost felt guilty for
taking Scully away from him. As the ASAC made his way to a chair,
Mulder grabbed the pile of napkins and set them on the table by the
chair farthest from where the man was settling in. Perkins gave him
a curious gaze.

"Nothing personal," Mulder said, sitting. "I have a cold and..."
The sneeze he'd been  holding back exploded out of him.

"Bless you. And I appreciate the gesture." Perkins waited while
Mulder blew his nose. "Nothing personal, either, but you look
awful." Mulder heard real sympathy in the man's tone.

Mulder gave him a watery smile. "I don't feel too bad, actually.
It's just this damned... Ah-choo! ...sneezing." 

Perkins glanced around the room; Mulder noticed his eyes alighting
on the empty tissue box. Then they flitted back to Mulder's face.
"That looks sore," he said, gesturing to Mulder's nose. "What you
need are those tissues with the lotion in them. I have a box at my
desk; I'll bring them down later."

Mulder waved him off. "That's not necessary, sir." Wondering why he
felt the sudden need to address the man as sir, Mulder continued.
"I'll just run out and buy a box." 

Perkins smiled sadly. "No offense, Agent Mulder, but you don't look
like you'd make it five feet, let alone up the stairs and out onto
the street."

Mulder glanced at the door. "Is it still raining?" He shivered,
still feeling the cold drizzle from the short walk to his and
Scully's rental that morning. After Scully and Jonas left, he'd
cranked the thermostat up to 80, but the temperature had remained
at an unwavering 65.

Perkins nodded. "And windy as all hell. You'd be soaked to the skin
before you got out the door."

Mulder sighed. He'd just have to hope that the ladies room would
come through for him. "So what'd you want to talk to me about?" As
if he couldn't guess.

"I'm sure you already know, Agent Mulder." The ASAC's tone hardened
into one which Mulder was more familiar with and, oddly, was more
comfortable with. So much for pleasantries.

"I have an idea," he said, and this was the truth. Although Scully
had given him the gist of her conversation with Perkins, he
couldn't be sure she'd actually said the words, "I love my
partner," to Perkins, and Mulder sure as hell wasn't about to
reveal anything. Let *Perkins* be the one to make any disclosures.
"I'm sure you've heard that once this case is finished, I'll be
taking over the Indianapolis office."

Mulder stiffened. "I heard."

"Did you know that I asked Dana to be my ASAC?"

Mulder's stomach was starting to do backflips. "I knew."

"It's a wonderful opportunity for her, Agent Mulder."

Mulder nodded; his eyes hardened. "And you."

Perkins visibly bristled. "That's not why I asked her."

A sigh. "I know. Scully's an excellent agent and a natural leader,
not to mention one of the top pathologists in the country. She'd be
an asset to any office."

"Which is why I want her to be my ASAC."

Mulder was growing tired of this game. "But it's not the only
reason."

Perkins seemed surprised that Mulder had come to this conclusion;
the man shifted uncomfortably.

Mulder had had enough of Perkins' pussy-footing. "She's my partner;
we're staying at the same B&B, for god's sake. Did you think I
didn't notice she's been gone more than she's been with me? Did you
think I didn't know where she was and who she was with? Did you
think I didn't miss her?" he ended softly.

The ASAC smiled uneasily. "I guess I hoped you hadn't." The man
looked up guiltily. "Until last night, I didn't know you and Dana
were, uh..." 

Mulder waited; let Perkins reach his own conclusions.

"Frankly, I was surprised. You just don't seem like the type of man
she'd go for." He sighed. "Let's face it, Mulder, you don't come
across as particularly lovable." 

Mulder flinched; the truth always hurt--him, at least.

Perkins face suddenly took on a look of horror. "Oh, Jesus, I'm
sorry. I didn't mean--" 

"It's all right," Mulder said quietly. I know exactly how I come
across."

Perkins appeared to be looking at him in a new light. "You do,
don't you? Is it intentional?"

"To some extent," Mulder admitted. He had to admire the
straight-forward approach of the man; no wonder he'd made SAC at
such a relatively young age. "Mostly, though, it's this
single-minded tendency Scully keeps telling me I have, of
concentrating so hard on the case that I forget about everything
else. Like manners."

Perkins nodded. "You can be rather... abrupt. With young Jonas, in
particular."

Mulder stared at the ASAC. He'd thought that he and Jonas were
getting on quite well. "He said that?" 

A smile flitted across Perkins face as he shook his head. "The boy
admires you. Despite all warnings to the contrary, he was dying to
work with you. Go a little easy on him, will you?"

Mulder felt like he'd just pistol-whipped a puppy. "I thought I
was."

Perkins shrugged. "Well, you could have fooled me. When they came
to my office, he looked like he'd just received the tongue-lashing
of his life."

Mulder felt the blood drain from his face. He'd been upset at being
excluded from the interviews, but... Had he taken any of his
frustration out on the other agent? He honestly couldn't remember.
"Shit," he muttered.

A soft laugh punctuated his self-recrimination. "You should see the
look on your face."

Immediately, Mulder wiped the slate clean. He stared,
expressionless, at the ASAC.

"Forget it, Mulder. It's too late." Perkins was smiling and shaking
his head.

Mulder stared, absolutely in the dark.

"Your cover. It's been blown."

Mulder leaned forward. "What?"

"You have feelings. You have emotions." He looked pointedly at
Mulder. "Like the rest of us."

Mulder felt his face heating up.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Agent Mulder. You love, and you're
loved." The ASAC stared at him,  an expression of defeat in his
eyes, and swallowed hard. "Dana loves you, and she says you love
her. Don't fuck it up."

What was going on here? Instead of attacking him, Perkins was
acting like he was his older brother. Was he just setting Mulder up
for a fall? Could he actually be this sincere, this... guileless?
Jesus, no wonder Scully found it so hard to refuse him. Mulder felt
horrible just because Scully loved him and not Perkins; he felt
like he was denying the man his last chance at true happiness. 

"Can I ask you a question?" Mulder said.

"Shoot." Perkins smiled, and Mulder felt like he'd scored a
touchdown.

"I know you and Scully have known each other a long time. Were you
and she... uh... Did you and she..." Perkins face fell; Mulder felt
like a heel for putting out the light in the other man's eyes.

"No," the ASAC said softly, shaking his head, looking down at the
tabletop. "Not for lack of trying on my part, though. She just
wasn't interested." He lifted his head and met Mulder's eyes. "Not
dissimilar to now." He smiled resignedly, then sighed. "I came here
to tell you how much better off she'd be with me. I came here
convinced you were an arrogant, self-involved jerk, but you're not
half-bad, Mulder. When your guard is down, you're actually a decent
human being." 

Perkins stood up. "It's funny. I've known you for about five
minutes. I've heard all the 'Spooky' Mulder stories, formed an
opinion of you based on those stories--not a favorable one, I might
add--yet I find myself liking you. I find myself thinking that
maybe Dana isn't making so hideous a mistake after all."

Mulder wasn't sure if he was the windshield or the bug. Not so
hideous a mistake? Was that what everyone would think when they saw
the two of them together? That while he was the luckiest guy on
Earth, Scully's lot in life was that she had made 'not so hideous
a mistake?'

"Mulder. Mulder!" He looked up dully, then was thoroughly shaken by
the distress he saw on Perkins' face. "For God's sake, I was
kidding. I never said that to her, and I never thought it. I was
only trying to lighten the mood." He smiled grimly. "I guess it
didn't work."

Still reeling from the direction his thoughts had taken, Mulder
stuttered, "No... No, I guess it didn't."

"Jesus, I'm sorry. If I thought for a minute you'd take it
seriously..." He regarded Mulder thoughtfully. "If you were half
the arrogant bastard everyone thinks you are, that would have
washed over you like so much sea water." His voice softened. "Take
it in the spirit in which it was intended, okay?"

Mulder couldn't stop thinking about it. "I can't," he said quietly.
"There's too much truth in it."

Instead of agreeing with him, the ASAC sat back down. "My wife and
I were married by a Justice of the Peace in his office. We didn't
tell anyone because we didn't know one person who didn't think it
would be the biggest mistake of my life."

Mulder blinked his eyes in surprise; now there was a switch.

Perkins caught the blink, and he nodded. "It's true. She was an
ex-convict, and I was a federal agent. Not exactly a match made in
heaven. The comments came hot and heavy: she was using me; she'd
corrupt me; she'd drag me down to the mud with her. Not one person
saw the flip side."

When Perkins' gaze met his, Mulder nodded, understanding where
Perkins was going.

"We were married only a year when she was diagnosed with an
inoperable tumor, but she was the sweetest, most wonderful woman
I've ever known..." Perkins eyes filled with water, and his voice
broke. "...and, God, I miss her."

Mulder looked away, giving the man a few seconds to compose
himself. Silently, he pushed a napkin to the ASAC. 

Perkins took the napkin, smiling sheepishly at Mulder; he wiped his
eyes, then blew his nose. "What I'm trying to say, Agent Mulder, is
that although everyone thought that *I* was making a 'hideous
mistake,' the truth is that I was the happiest I'd ever been in my
life. Carol was the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't
tell you what a pleasure it was proving all those
people--well-meaning, though they might have been--wrong." Perkins
shook his head and gave a short laugh. "I can't believe I'm telling
you this."

"It sounds like you've needed to tell someone for a long time,"
Mulder said quietly.

The ASAC stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "I don't think
I've ever talked about Carol since her death."

"Was there anyone you *could* talk to?"

"Not really," Perkins admitted.

"Not even Dana?" Mulder asked.

Perkins gave him a grin. "The last thing you want to be doing on a
date is talk about your dead wife. It's not exactly conducive to
any future romance."

Mulder smiled. "No, I don't suppose it would be."

The ASAC stood again. "Well, the point's moot now, anyway. I had my
second chance, and I still wasn't what she wanted." He stuck out
his hand. "Best of luck, Mulder. To both of you."

Taking the man's hand, Mulder smiled warmly. "Thank you." They let
go, and Perkins started away. "Uh... sir?"

Perkins turned around, a question on his face.

"If you ever want to talk to someone..."

"I will," Perkins said softly. "Thanks."

After the ASAC left, Mulder stared at the door a minute, then
snatched up a napkin. "Achoo!" He stood up, wiping his nose as
gently as he could.

Ladies room. Soft toilet paper. He walked swiftly out the door.

*****

Denver Field Office Basement
Friday
4:30 p.m.

"Mulder!" The door hit the wall with a bang as Scully stormed in,
startling him. He had been studying a fax he'd received half an
hour ago, his chair tilted back, and when it slammed forward his
teeth jolted up into his eyeballs. He stared at his partner in
shock as waves of pain reverberated through his head.

"What did you say to him? What did you do?" Her face was livid.

Mulder blinked in confusion; he felt like he'd just had his brains
scrambled. "What? Who?"

Scully stabbed him with a look that would have made him come clean
if he knew what she was talking about. "Andy."

His temples were throbbing; Mulder squinted in puzzlement. "What
about him?" he moaned.

"What happened between the two of you? What did you say to him?"
She was torn between anger and fear now, and Mulder couldn't
imagine what he'd done to the man.

"I... Nothing. Why? What's the matter? Is he all right?" Jesus, had
the man had a heart attack? Stroke? Had Mulder been the cause?

"I don't know. I was too embarrassed to see him after what Lowther
said." Scully looked very upset, and Mulder was her main target.

He pressed a hand to his aching forehead. "I don't know what you're
talking about, Scully," he mumbled.

She planted herself directly in front of him. "Did you talk to him
today?"

He bristled at her accusatory tone. "Yes. *He* came down here."

Instead of accepting that Mulder was not the instigator of whatever
happened, Scully turned on him and hissed, "You just had to do it,
didn't you?"

Mulder was too taken aback by the venom in her voice to utter
anything but a garbled, "What?"

"You had to show him up. You had to skewer him with those
rapier-sharp barbs of yours, didn't you? Dammit, Mulder, Andy's
still going through a rough time. His wife died--"

"I know," Mulder cut her off. "We talked about her."

"You..." Scully was rendered almost speechless. "...what?"

"He misses her," Mulder said quietly. "After two years, he's still
mourning for her."

"You didn't get into an argument with him? You didn't..." She bit
her lip.

"Hurt him?" Mulder shook his head. "I couldn't do that to him." He
waited until her eyes met his. "I understand now, Scully," he said
very quietly. At her baffled look, he explained. "Why you had
trouble telling him 'no.' Why you kept going out with him."

"You... do?" 

Mulder nodded. "He's a nice guy. A decent man. If I wasn't a male,
and I wasn't in love with you, I think I might go out with him," he
said with a grin. Then he remembered how distraught she was when
she came in. "What happened? He was fine when he left."

"Lowther said he went to talk to you. They were all anticipating
his giving you a good dressing-down, for what, I don't know." She
gave him her 'inquisitor' look. "Have you done anything that would
warrant that?"

He shook his head, shrugging in bewilderment. "Not that I know of."

"Anyway, Lowther said that when he came back his eyes were red and
puffy, like he'd been crying." Scully's eyes were beginning to
water. "Mulder, Andy's a really sensitive guy. Are you sure you
didn't say anything..."

"I swear, Scully." He held up a hand in appeasement. "We just
talked. He told me about his wife..." Mulder's eyes met hers as it
dawned on him. "He... At one point, he broke down. But it was only
for a moment. He was okay when he left."

"Then you didn't..."

"Jesus, no. It'd be like drowning a kitten." Mulder looked down at
the floor. "He still up there?"

Scully nodded.

"Do they all think that whatever happened is because of me?"

She nodded.

"Do you?"

It took a second, but very slowly she shook her head. 

"You're not sure, though, are you?"

She closed the distance between them and cupped his face in her
hand. "Yes. I am."  

Shutting his eyes, he breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you,"
he said very softly.

Her lips touched his lightly. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions."

He opened his eyes and looked at her face, so close to his; his
eyes darted to the otherwise empty room. "Where's Jonas?"

She tilted her head back. "Upstairs. I think he tumbled to the
notion that I wanted to talk to you alone."

"Smart kid," Mulder said. He gave Scully another light kiss, then
pushed her away gently. "This is the only thing I don't want to
give you, Scully: my cold."

"How are you feeling?" She felt his face and forehead with her
hand. 

He shrugged. "Kinda crummy." Then he smiled, feeling a little
foolish for admitting that he wasn't feeling too terrific. "Like I
have a cold." 

"How's the profile coming? Did you make any more headway?"

He held up the fax he'd been reading when Scully came in. "Just
this." He sighed. "If we ever catch the perp, it'll come in handy,
but right now I can't make head nor tails out of it."

"Feeling too miserable to concentrate?" Her eyes took in the
half-used roll of toilet tissue and the overflowing wastebasket,
then focused in on his nose.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Hey, Scully, before we go back to the B&B,
can we stop and buy some *soft* tissues?" He glared at the toilet
tissue. "That sandpaper isn't much better than napkins. I thought
ladies rooms had the soft stuff."

She laughed. "You would." One finger very lovingly lingered just
above the sore skin of his nose. "Why don't I go now? Save what
precious skin you have left."

He smiled uncertainly. "If you wouldn't mind." 

"I wouldn't have asked if I did." She grabbed up her purse from
where she'd thrown it on the table and started for the door. 

Partway there, he stopped her. "Scully."

She turned around to face him, waiting.

"What about you? Any luck today?"

She frowned. "Nothing we didn't already know. Mostly they were
upset that we were still bothering them." Her countenance
brightened. "Good choice in Jonas, though. He has good instincts."

Mulder broke the eye contact. "Uh, yeah."

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Scully moving back toward him.
"What's wrong?"

He looked up at her, then moved his gaze away. "Did I... Earlier,
when we were discussing my non-involvement in the interviews, was
I... Did I say anything to Jonas? Was I..." He sighed. "Did I say
anything that might be construed as 'not nice?'"

One of Scully's eyebrows raised in an expression Mulder knew only
too well. It was her 'You don't know?' face. "You mean, did you
accuse him of trying to take over the investigation? Did you call
him an incompetent, overzealous, simple-minded ass-kisser? Did you
tell him to keep his filthy hands off me or you'd pound him into
the pavement?" She gazed at him questioningly. "Something like
that?"

He stared at her. Jesus, he'd said all that? He recalled being
upset with Scully, but... He narrowed his eyes. He'd never had
those thoughts; he'd never said those things.

She smiled wickedly. "Gotcha."

Shaking his head, he grinned. "So what did I say then?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You ranted and raved, but only at me, and
nothing I hadn't heard before. It might have been a little too much
for virgin ears, though." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Come
to think of it, he didn't say much until we were at the first
house."

Mulder sighed. Why did he have to be such an asshole?

"Scully, can we go back to the B&B now? I must have sneezed the
entire time you were gone, and my head feels like there's a steel
drum band inside."

Her finger hovered in front of his nose. "No wonder you look like
Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer."

"And I feel like I've been pulling a sleigh all night." Looking at
her through half-closed eyes, he remarked, "Bet you're just dying
to jump into bed with me, aren't you?"

"Actually, Mulder..." Her expression became sultry, and her eyes
looked almost... smoky. Then the seductress vanished, and she
sighed. "I'd love nothing more, but you're sick."

"I have a cold," he reminded her. "But you're right. You shouldn't
even be this close to all these germs."

She moved in closer, her breath tickling his nose. "I'm willing to
take the risk." Leaning in, she kissed the tip of it.

He smiled, then his eyes began watering and he felt an
all-too-familiar tingle. He barely turned his head in time before,
"Huh-choo!"  Pushing her away, he made a grab for the roll of
tissue. "Oh, no, not again," he moaned. "Huh-choo! Scully, I want
to go home now."

Just then, the door burst open, and an angry Eugene Lowther stalked
in, two more agents in his wake. "Spooky, you son of a bitch! What
the hell did you do to him?"

Mulder's eyes widened at the threatening picture the agents
presented before him. Lowther was a *big* man, and the other two
were no lightweights, either. "I didn't do anything to him."

"Yeah? Well, he just went home. Said he was sick, but I know it was
because of his 'talk' with you." Lowther grabbed hold of Mulder's
shirt, practically pulling him out of his chair. "What the hell did
you say to him?"

"Nothing. Whatever happened to him happened after he left here." 

This time the agent did pull him out of his chair. Instinctively,
Mulder's arms chopped upward, trying to break the other man's hold.
It was like trying to fell an oak tree with a butter knife.
Mulder's nose suddenly twitched, and he almost smiled. Lowther
might be big, but he was almost paranoid in his fear of germs.
Mulder sneezed on him.

"What the fuck..." Lowther shoved Mulder away from him so fast, the
agent flew the remaining six feet across the room, hitting the wall
with a teeth-shattering "thu-whap!" Mulder's head connected solidly
with the hardwood, and he landed in a heap on the floor, panting
heavily. 

"Leave him the fuck alone, you barbarians! They were talking about
Andy's wife, and Andy got a little emotional. Mulder didn't do
anything!" Scully was kneeling beside him, her hands checking him
for injury, her arms covering him protectively.

"No offense, Agent Scully, but you're his partner," a new voice
Mulder recognized as belonging to Grant Hartigan piped up.
Off-handedly, Mulder wondered if Lowther had run to the ladies room
to wash off his germs.

"You're damned right I am!" Her grip on him tightened, which was
fortunate since he felt that nothing was going to prevent him from
fainting dead away any second. "And I'm Andy's friend. And I'm
telling you that Mulder didn't do anything to him."

"He'd better not have." Even though he wasn't looking, Mulder could
see Hartigan's finger jabbing the air.

"Get out of here." Her tone was low and dangerous. "Get the fuck
out of here before I have you all up on charges."

They must have retreated a lot more quietly than they came in,
because all Mulder heard was the soft click of the door. Scully
cradled his head in her arms, he mumbled, "My hero," and the world
disappeared.

*****

End 2/3