Title: Coming Clean Author: Emmyjean (emmyjeanb@yahoo.com) Classification: S, Mulder/Scully UST, Scully POV. Spoilers: The End, Travelers, slight ones for the Ascension/One Breath arc Rating: PG Archive: E-mail me and let me know first, please. ? Summary: Takes place after the events of "The End". How do Mulder and Scully deal with the immediate aftermath of the torching of their office? Author's Comments: I saw Travelers the other day for the first time since it aired three years ago, or whatever it was. I guess I had blocked it out of my mind (gee, I wonder why). ? This is my response to the questions it posed. More fic by Emmyjean at "Between the Lines: A Fanfic Archive" http://www.agentsndoctors.50megs.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Scully opened the door to her apartment, the familiar smell of home rushing around her as though welcoming her back. She stepped in and shut the door, fumbling in the darkness for the console table lamp. Flicking it on, she set her keys down and wearily crossed the dim living room to sink down into her couch. She thought, for the millionth time in the last five years, about running away. Packing her bags and getting out of this town, this job, and this life. She could move to sunny California to be closer to her brother and his family. She could go back to Chicago, where she had done her residency, to be near all the dear friends she still kept in touch with from that time so long ago. She could even, if she so chose, disappear to Europe or somewhere...she had always wanted to see France. Or Italy. It didn't really matter. A normal existence. It was a thought that was constantly tugging at the recesses of her tired brain, always tinting the background of the frenzied canvas that had become her life. What would it be like to go home after a long day at the office and actually be able to forget about work until the next morning? To be able to live and work in one city, to have stability, and not have to travel from place to place every week? What would it be like to go out with old friends and have a nice time on a Friday evening? To sleep late on Sunday without fear of nightmares? To be able to plan a vacation three months in advance? She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the soft cushions. It would be sublime, lovely...boring. Perhaps. She just couldn't say with any certainty that she even wanted all those things. It just bothered her sometimes that she could not have them...that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. It bothered her even more that she wasn't sure why she felt compelled to stay...because of her own need for answers, for closure...or because she didn't want to leave him alone? A small stab of...something...assaulted her chest. A few days ago, before tragedy had struck her life in the form of a destructive office fire, she had met Diana Fowley and found out much about her past. And, consequently, Mulder's. Not because anyone was forthcoming with the information, however. She had been forced to dig for the answers, expose her feelings to colleagues and make herself slightly transparent and, therefore, vulnerable. She hated that, it made her feel nauseous just thinking about it. Why had he made her do that? Why couldn't he have just told her? She took a deep breath. If someone else existed who could take her place...if she could leave and rest assured that he and his files would be taken care of...would she give it up to someone else? Would she be able to step aside if that was what he seemed to want? She just didn't know. Scully jumped slightly at the soft knocking on the door. She stood up and, blessedly bare toes cracking, she padded softly to the door and unlatched it. Opening it up, she found Mulder standing in the hall. He was looking scruffy, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket. His face was unshaven, and his hair was mussed. She assumed immediately that he hadn't slept since she last saw him early yesterday morning. They had gone to the office to find it a smoldering shambles, and he had told her quietly that he needed to be alone for awhile. She wondered how long it would take him to contact her, and had worried about what he would do with himself in the meantime. But she respected his wishes. "Can I come in?" he asked, his voice gruff. She stepped aside, allowing him entry into her home. She found herself contemplating how little time he had actually spent in her place over the years, as much as he was always welcome. Shutting the door, she turned to find him standing behind her in the entryway, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets and looking generally lost and awkward. "Why is it so dark in here?" he asked absentmindedly. "Because the lights aren't on," she replied with a slight smile. This seemed to put him a bit at ease, and he smiled wanly back at her. "I was just gonna make some coffee...want a cup?" "Yeah...yeah, that'd be good." She stepped around him and he followed her into the kitchen. As she started busying herself with the coffee, he took a seat at her kitchen table and merely watched her through exhausted eyes. "Mulder...are you okay?" He let out a little chuckle at that, but it was humorless. "Do I look that bad?" "Yes." He nodded his head, and then asked in a faraway voice, "What are we gonna do, Scully?" She finished with the coffee machine and as it began brewing, she sat down across from him. She looked at him, ready to tell him once again that it would all be okay, that they would get through this, and all the rest of the platitudes that usually spilled out of her mouth at times like this. Instead, perhaps because she was weary and perhaps because she couldn't stand to lie to him, she found herself simply replying, "I don't know." He looked up at her, his eyes telling her that it wasn't what he wanted to hear. She went on, "No matter what happens, Mulder...I just want you to keep it together. For once, think of yourself." He shook his head slightly as if dismissing her words as unimportant and said, "What if they separate us again?" She saddened at the sudden thought, but knew that what he needed right now was her assurance that everything would be fine...even if she wasn't so sure of that herself. That was why he had come to her tonight in the first place. Wasn't that why he always came? "Look, let's just deal with this thing one step at a time. Our files have just been destroyed, our office gutted...let's not think about what could happen. Right now, we need to deal with what HAS happened." He began shaking his head more vehemently as she said the words. "Scully, what's done is done. There's nothing I can do now about any of those things- it's too late. I need to concentrate on doing something effective - in other words, trying to stop future problems before they arise." "There's no way you can anticipate anybody's next move. Whatever is going to happen will happen, whether you interfere or not. You might as well not force them to take a defensive posture when dealing with us." He looked at her intensely, suddenly. She sighed, "Mulder...just be patient, for once. Let things run their course. It's better for everyone concerned...trust me on this." He stood up and began pacing the kitchen area, running a hand through his hair. She stood up quietly and went to the counter, attempting to leave him to his thoughts while she tended to the coffee. She began pouring the aromatic liquid into mugs, and said quietly, "I know you aren't a man who is very adept at sitting around, waiting for things to happen. I have learned a few things, working with you over the past five years. You are a person who is based on action, and I know how hard it is for you to stand idly by and watch as all this takes place around you. But if you do anything now, and start acting rash...there's no telling what could happen. It would only make things worse." He let out a large breath, his tone becoming more and more frustrated as he answered, "Scully...it took me a long time to bring myself to completely trust you. You are the only person I've met in the past five years - hell, maybe even in the past thirty - that has proven to be worthy of my trust. I honestly don't think I have the energy to learn to trust someone else with my files...I don't even know if anyone like that exists." Mulder had stopped pacing behind her, and she didn't turn around to look at him as she reached into the fridge to grab the milk. She steeled herself for what she must now say. "Mulder...there is one person." He didn't say anything in reply, and she assumed he was waiting for her to continue, "Diana Fowley. She's recovering nicely from her wounds, and she has worked with you in the past. She was there when you found the X-Files, and she has a mind that works much like your own. Even...," she took a breath, "even if they separate us, you still have a chance at requesting she be assigned to the X- Files." Her heart, much to her surprise, was practically breaking at her own suggestion. She was stepping aside, letting another have a chance. Maybe Diana Fowley would make a better partner for Mulder anyway, as much as she was hurting to admit it to herself. It seemed as if neither moved or spoke for hours as she stood staring at the contents of the two mugs. Mesmerized by the creamy-white milk swirling deliciously into the dark brown brew, she began thinking about idle things. She had to go grocery shopping tomorrow...this was the last of her coffee. Suddenly, his hand on her head made her jump and spill milk onto the countertop. She stilled her movements, frozen. He was merely resting it on the back of her head. Slowly, as her breathing quickened, he began lightly petting her. Stroking her hair as though he was trying to smooth it down. He let his hand slide to rest gently on the back of her neck. She barely heard him as he said softly, "I don't want Diana." She sopped up the spilled milk with a paper towel, trying her best to ignore the warm pressure on her nape. "What?" was all she could manage. "I...I don't trust Diana. Not completely, anyway." She turned to face him, and his hand remained on her neck. She found his gaze resting intently upon her face, as if he were trying to communicate something to her without using words. "What do you mean you don't trust her?" His thumb began making circles against her skin as he spoke, causing goosebumps to raise on her arms. "I never did completely believe that she was putting the work ahead of her own personal gain. She was always out for herself, and I always sensed that she would split and leave me alone with my quest at the first sign of a better opportunity. And I was right...that's exactly what she did." They held each other's gazes for one tense second, then Mulder seemingly became self-conscious and dropped his hand to his side, finishing, "Besides...the X-Files will probably never be reopened. That was the point of burning the office in the first place." Her eyes followed his hand to his side and she replied, "Yeah, well...there's nothing we can do now. Skinner will fight for us, that much we know." He gave a short puff of something that sounded like laughter, although there was nothing jovial about it. She handed him one of the cups, and he took it silently. He just stood staring at it, not moving to either drink it or put it down. Despite the hot coffee and the reasonably calm atmosphere her dimly lit apartment created, she couldn't help but feel the cold fingers of worry begin making their way around her stomach. She was too afraid to let him be alone tonight, but how was she going to handle this? He looked up suddenly, seemingly sensing her scrutiny. "What?" "Nothing, I just..." she hesitated, not knowing how to broach the subject without offending him or, worse, giving off the wrong impression. She turned away and headed for the living room, sitting down carefully on the couch and absently looking around her for the remote to the TV. How long had it been since she'd watched anything, anyway? The thing was probably hidden under some dust balls. "Scully?" Mulder's tentative voice came from beside her in the darkness. He was still standing up. "Sit down, Mulder. Stay awhile." He did as he was told, but she could feel his eyes on her face the entire time. "What were you going to say?" She stalled in answering him, bending to look under the couch for the controller. She came up empty. "Where is that damn thing?" she muttered more to herself than to him. "This thing, in my hand?" he held up the remote for her to see, his eyes twinkling with a blessed dose of humor. She smirked at him and replied smugly, "Yeah, thanks a lot." Making a swipe at his outstretched hand for the device only left her struggling not to topple into his lap as he pulled it just out of her reach. He smiled at her and flicked the TV on, flipping channels as she regarded him subtly, and finally settling on the Dick Van Dyke Show. He set the remote down, leaned back in his chair, and picked up his coffee. Scully turned her attention to the television, but seeing the figures on the screen move, hearing them speak, and actually watching the program were very different matters altogether. She silently contemplated how she might convince Mulder to spend the night without making him think she didn't trust him to be on his own without losing it...which she didn't. At least not for tonight. She supposed she could simply wait and see, and perhaps he would fall asleep of his own accord on the chair. No...he'd just wake up and leave in the middle of the night, and she didn't want that, either. He interrupted her thoughts suddenly with, "Scully...would you mind if I crashed here for tonight?" She looked at him, her eyes wide in amazement. He misinterpreted her look, and hastily began to explain himself, "It's just that I'm so beat after what we've been through today, and I really don't feel up to driving home at this point. I'll just take the couch..." "No, Mulder- it's fine. You're always welcome." He looked at her for a moment, then asked quietly, "What were you going to ask me before? In the kitchen?" She smiled faintly at him, and replied, "I was trying to figure out how to ask you to stay here tonight without offending you." His eyebrows went up and he chuckled, "Seriously?" She laughed shortly and confirmed, "Yep. You seem to have read my mind." His smile faded as he stared into her face, suddenly serious. She held his gaze, allowing him the freedom to say what she knew instinctively that he was going to say. "We always could do that, huh Scully? Read each other's minds?" She nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. She knew he was bringing them abstrusely back around to the conversation they had had in the kitchen, concerning their partnership. He was, in his own way, bringing home his point that they were good together. What he seemed not to realize was that she was not presenting any argument to that fact. She broke the moment, fatigue suddenly overtaking her senses. She sighed, then stood up. He stood too, and for a moment neither one made a move. "I'll bring out a blanket and some pillows." He nodded in response, and she went off to take care of the task at hand. She was grateful to have something to occupy herself, as she always did when she began to feel awkward. When his bed was set up, she handed him the remote from where he had set it on the armchair and said simply, "Goodnight, Mulder." "Nite, Scully." She headed for her room, but just as she was about to walk out through the door a thought hit her. She turned back to him and found him still watching her. "Mulder, I...I want to find you on that couch in the morning. Or at least somewhere in this apartment. Okay?" He smiled slightly at her bluntness, and replied, "Alright, Scully. I promise I'll be good." She gave him a look that told him exactly what she thought of his tone, and got ready for bed herself. ~~~ A noise woke her about three hours later. She had always been a light sleeper, but her time with the X-Files (and Mulder) had trained her to be even more so. She scanned the darkness with her eyes, then quickly sat up...only to nearly have a heart attack upon finding Mulder standing at the foot of her bed. At least a couple of hours must have passed, because she no longer heard the television and he had discarded his jeans. Now he wore only his t-shirt and boxers. "Sorry...I didn't mean to wake you." he said in a hoarse voice. Scully couldn't tell if he had actually been crying or if his throat was just constricted with stress and grief...either way, he didn't sound too good. "It's okay, Mulder. Are you alright?" Silence for a long moment, then, "No...I mean, yeah. I, uh, I couldn't sleep." That still didn't explain why he was standing in her bedroom watching her sleep, but she supposed that inquiry could wait until a better time...which would be any time but three in the morning on a Friday night. She was just thanking the Lord that they didn't have to go to work tomorrow and confront the wasteland of their office so soon after the incident. "Mulder...sit down." He hesitated for only a brief second, then walked around to the other side of the bed and sat gingerly on the bed as if not to jostle her. She smiled inwardly at his care. "What is it? What's wrong?" Mulder laughed a bitter laugh which cut through the darkness, saddening her. "Scully...everything's wrong. Don't you feel it, too? Our life's work...everything we've done in the past five years...it's all gone. Perished." The last word was spoken with such an inflection of heartache that she suddenly felt the overwhelming need to make him happy. If not happy, then at least more positive than he was right now. "Mulder, it's not gone. You know those cases like the back of your hand, and so do I to an extent. I'm sure some of the files can be salvaged, and even if not, there are the disks. All in all, things could be a lot..." "Disks?" "What?" she asked, confused by the interruption. "Scully, I never made backup disks for those files. I just never got around to it. I guess I always figured I had plenty of time..." "Mulder...I made the disks. Don't you remember that argument we had?" "What argument?" She sighed. For someone with a photographic memory, he sure forgot a lot of things. "Yeah, I was shocked when...er, after I returned from my abduction and wanted to borrow the disk with my files on it...you said you didn't make disks because you didn't think it was necessary. You must have been less paranoid then. Well, anyway, long story short...I made it my job to make the backups of every single file in that cabinet, and I've done it ever since. I realize that this only accounts for the text of those files, and not all the evidence we accumulated...and for that I'm sorry. I know that's a huge loss." There was a long pause, and finally he said, "Where are these disks?" "In my desk here, at home. I thought it safe not to keep them with the actual files for precisely this reason." Another long pause, and he suddenly let out a shuddering breath and put his head in his hands. He remained that way for a long time, and she merely watched him. She didn't know what to say, and she wasn't sure what he wanted to hear. Suddenly, his voice cut through the silence. "There's something I have to tell you. I couldn't sleep, thinking about it." She sat up in bed now, propping herself against the pillows at her back. She felt a tight uneasiness worming its way through her stomach as she wondered what could not only make him so upset, but could also take precedence over his torched office in his tormented mind. "What is it, Mulder?" she asked calmly, trying simultaneously to give him the courage to speak and herself the courage to hear whatever it was he had to say. "This is really hard for me to...it's not something I tell everyone. It's something I generally prefer to keep buried in my past." He looked up at her with tortured eyes, seeking her permission to continue. She nodded, and said, "Mulder...whatever it is, you can trust me. You can tell me anything, you know that." He nodded slowly in return, and to her slight surprise, covered her hand with his own on the bedspread. He entwined his fingers with hers, and stared at this small physical connection as he went on. "I think you've probably figured out that Diana Fowley and I have a- a history together. I didn't exactly do a good job of hiding this fact, mostly due to my shock at her sudden appearance on this case. More than that, Scully...I was terrified of your reaction should you find out this way what exactly used to be between us..." He trailed off, and she decided that she definitely didn't want to hear the rest of this confession of his. She didn't have much of a choice, but she couldn't deny that the apprehension in her gut was only growing by the second. She had, of course, deduced that Mulder and Diana had been romantically involved at one point. This was even before she asked the Gunmen about her...it was quite obvious there was a tension between them. What she hadn't been able to figure out, or what she hadn't yet forced herself to fully confront, was why she was feeling so ill about the whole idea of Mulder's previous love life. Suddenly, he spoke. "We used to be married." Scully felt her stomach drop to her knees in shock. A million different emotions were whizzing through her fevered brain at once, and she was at a loss as to which was which. She couldn't begin to imagine what her face must look like at the moment, what expression she might be presenting. He was looking straight into her eyes, waiting for her to say something. She honestly didn't know whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or slap him silly. Instead, she simply asked quietly, "Why didn't you ever tell me before?" He shook his head and abruptly heaved himself to his feet and began pacing at the foot of her bed. In the darkness, she could just barely make out his form outlined in moonlight as he ran both hands though his already disheveled hair. "Scully, it wasn't an active decision on my part. At first, when you were my partner, I figured it was none of your business. Then, when you became my friend, I assumed that it wasn't something that would affect your life either way. Like I said, it wasn't something that I was enthusiastic about letting out of the closet. After that...I mean, when you came to be..." He let his sentence dissipate again, and seemed to be at a loss for words. She looked away, still trying to come to grips with this new, previously missing chapter in the life of Fox Mulder...one that she had not been a part of in the least. Just when you think you know someone... Suddenly, he was kneeling at her bedside, his silence imploring her to look him in the eye. She acquiesced, and what she saw there made most of her anger at his secrecy disappear...it was regret. Pure, unadulterated remorse caused by something for which he, in all reality, should not be apologizing to her. "Scully, it was a mistake. The biggest mistake I ever made, and believe me when I tell you that I was quick to correct it. She and I...we never got along, not really. We didn't make each other happy..." "Mulder, you don't have to explain all this to me. When you said before that it was none of my business, you were right. There are some things I don't need to..." "But it IS your business, Scully. You have a right to know certain things about me. There are certain things I feel - that I want to tell you. That I should tell you." She waited a beat, then asked simply, "Why?" He stopped speaking then, and merely looked at her. They held each other's gazes, and Scully swore she could literally feel the electricity shooting back and forth between them. It wasn't something that was new, not to her at least. Her heart thudded, however, because it seemed at this moment that they were standing on the edge of a precipice in their relationship...one that neither one had ever looked into before. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Mulder replied softly, "I'm not sure I'm ready to answer that question yet." She let out her breath in a rush, and nodded slowly in agreement. "Then...maybe we should both get some sleep." He gazed at her for another few beats, then looked down at his hands where they lay atop the covers. He swallowed hard, then mumbled, "You're not angry with me?" She sighed again, and looked out the window at the night sky. Of course she was mad at him- she was furious. Not so much because he had actually been married before, although it wasn't a pleasant thought for her, but because he had never before mentioned it to her. She had thought she was his best friend, and she knew really that she was, but some part of her couldn't help but be hurt by his sudden revelation...as if he had been lying to her about something for all these years, when the truth was so important to both of them. She looked at his bowed head and realized he couldn't bring himself to look at her until he had received some kind of absolution. She cleared her throat and inquired, "Mulder, if she hadn't walked back into your life so suddenly...would you ever have told me all this? Or would you have let me go on in ignorance for the rest of..." She stopped abruptly. Rest of what? Her life? Their relationship? Their lives together? She hated when she verbally backed herself into a corner like this, but lately she felt she had been doing it a lot. Especially after her cancer, she felt simply that there was a growing amount of territory that could be dangerous for both of them lest it be stumbled upon in conversation. What she didn't know is if it was new, or if they simply hadn't been as aware of it until now. Mulder looked up then, sincerity radiating from his hazel eyes. Even in the darkened room, the light from the window illuminated his amazing irises, making them look almost ethereal. He opened his mouth to speak, then let his breath out in a rush of air that swept past her cheek and played with her hair. She hadn't noticed before how close they were to each other. "Scully...I swear to you that you would have known. I would have told you, and I thought many times about doing so, but...it just never seemed appropriate. I didn't want you to think...less of me. I rely so much upon your respect. That's why I need to know...do you? Think less of me?" He looked as though he wouldn't be surprised if she ordered him up and out of her apartment, under instruction never to return again. Not that she thought he'd obey any such directive, but...regardless, so much had happened to them in the past twelve hours. Now was not the time to be angry and carry bitterness over petty things...and in light of what had recently come to pass with the X-Files, this certainly was petty by comparison. "Mulder...I wouldn't think less of you if you took out your gun and shot me in the stomach right now." His eyes widened in surprise, and she added, "But don't try it, okay? I'm not completely convinced of that...I have no hard evidence, after all." He smiled faintly, relief apparent in every feature on his face. Then, in a gesture that surprised her greatly, he put his head down on the bed next to her hip and sighed deeply. She responded without thinking, putting her hand on his head and stroking him, just as he had done to her earlier. They remained that way for what seemed like a long time, and Scully decided it was time to break the spell- for both their goods. "Mulder...we both need to get some rest. It's been a long day." He nodded, and slowly stood up. He gazed down at her for a moment before speaking, simply stating, "Thank you, Scully." She knew those words held more meaning than she wanted to analyze at the moment. She simply smiled at him, and he smiled back and turned to walk out of the room. He stopped and looked back only once before disappearing through the doorway and heading back to her couch. She turned onto her side and let her eyes drift closed, but stayed awake thinking for a moment before letting slumber overtake her. She had wanted more than anything to stop him, to let him sleep beside her in her bed rather than returning to the cramped couch. However, she knew that she couldn't cross that line...not yet. One day...one day she would, or he would. It was only a matter of time now. Besides...he'll be there in the morning. They both would. With that thought comforting her, she fell fast asleep. FINIS