TITLE: Interlude AUTHOR: Christina M. Simmons EMAIL ADDRESS: Mythtical@aol.com SPOILER WARNING: Christmas Carol, Emily RATING: G CONTENT WARNING: MSR CLASSIFICATION: Vignette/MSR SUMMARY: Mulder comes to San Diego in response to Scully's news about the case she's fallen into. Author's Note: This was written before "Emily" aired, anticipating a scene that would probably never make it into that episode. Still, at some time, Scully would have to tell Mulder about all that passed in "Christmas Carol," and tell him what she plans to do about Emily. And, as much as nobody wants to think that things will change between them... we all know that Scully would leave her active duty for her daughter in a heartbeat, and return to Quantico to teach. And we all know that this announcement would have its own effect on her partner... "We *could* run off and get married..." Mulder drawled softly, glancing askance at his partner as she paced evenly at his side, his eyes teasing. "Couldn't hurt. Might even help. Whaddaya say, Scully... you and me... want to be 'Mrs. Spooky' officially?" But Scully was not looking at him, her eyes downturned, watching her own feet measure out the sidewalk perimeter of the Navy's officer housing block, a steady pace, deliberate. "I don't think that would help, Mulder..." she said, and he saw her brow furrow slightly, thinking. "It's a matter of too much, too late... the paperwork is in, and there's really no reason that a single woman can't... oh." Pacing feet missed a step, and she stopped in her tracks, finally turning her eyes up at her partner. A faint, almost sheepish smile flitted across her face. "That was a joke, wasn't it?" Mulder stopped as well, raising one eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, and grinned. Mulder the clown, playing the fool for her, as he so often did. Scully rolled her eyes, reached out and touched his arm, a tangible "thank you," though she couldn't shake the tension in her every vein... and almost didn't want to, fearing the numbness she felt behind it. She did smile for a moment at her partner... a faint smile. Then, restless energy, she started to walk again. Mulder paused, eyes squinting in the foxy haze of a cloudy December afternoon. Slanting sunset muted the colors and outlines of the orderly rows of houses, the sourceless glow dowsing everything pale and dreamlike. In the odd light, the soldierly structures up and down the block were somehow surreal... and the temperature of San Diego was too warm for December, adding to the effect. After a moment, he frowned slightly and followed. He knew why he was here, now... and knew that, on this venture, it was his place to follow rather than lead. Scully spared a half-glance as Mulder fell in beside her once more, silent, not looking at her. His mere presence was a reassurance... that intangible sense of his unconditional support. In the field, she knew he was always there, beside her, alert to any danger, watching her back even as she watched his. They were partners... and more than that, friends. It had been odd how, surrounded by family, she had felt almost bereft of that... and how in that situation, nestled among the people who, for all intents and purposes, loved her and knew her best, she had turned away to seek Mulder from the first. *It wasn't even a case, at that point... It still isn't, officially...* She'd hung up, of course... but as the days had passed, and strangeness around her had turned to something more sinister, ominous, she had found her thoughts turning again and again to the east coast. *And between Mom and Bill...* Well, who would have blamed her? "Mulder... I need you to come out here." It had been simple, when she had finally come to it... without greeting or preamble, and entirely without explanation. She had barely waited for his non-greeting on the other end of the line... she knew her partner's voice, and it had drawn the words out of her. A moment's breath of a pause, and in her mind's eye she had seen him turn to his digital clock -- it had been late there, and dark -- glance around the room, and then back to center, his brow creasing slightly in worry... picking up, perhaps, on the cadence and note of her voice, nuances distorted by the telephone lines, and homing, unerringly, on that subtle undertone which spoke more than any simple phrase could: *This is important, Mulder. Please.* "I'll be on the next flight." No asking why, not requiring any reason at all. Not even a concerned, "Something wrong, Scully?" He was her partner, her friend, and it was as simple as that. If she needed him, he would be there. He'd called from his departing terminal, to tell her his flight number and time of arrival... but he'd come without hesitation, and when he had turned up at her brother's door, armed with a Christmas poinsettia and his most charming smile, he had leaned close to her grateful eyes with a murmur of "Merry Christmas," and had waited for her to explain the summons in her own time. She could love him for that, and maybe she did. And when she had told him... about the telephone calls, and the suicides that were anything but that... and finally about Emily, and what she planned to do... there was no question but, "You're sure?" And he'd looked over the test results, glanced at the files, then looked at her, his eyes measuring, deep, and dark with a mix of concern and compassion. Then he had nodded... just that, nodded, and hadn't said anything at all. She'd been afraid... well, not afraid, but concerned... about what his reaction would be, telling him about Emily. Her Emily. Her daughter, her little girl. And Mulder knew, as well as she did, what her decision would be if... *If I bring Emily home with me.* The thought warmed her, touched those parts of her that were empty, longing... but as she looked again at her partner, she felt a pang. Almost a regret, but not quite. He had known what her decision would be, because she'd told him. And he knew his place in that decision, and where it would leave him... but he had said nothing. He had looked away for a moment, and an unreadable expression had passed his face, settling in his eyes... but just as he seemed about to reply, Tara, her brother's wife, had chirped into the kitchen, offering coffee, cookies, cake... and when she had looked again, the expression had been masked behind the Pleasant Mulder face he'd slipped on for her family's sake. It hadn't fooled her then... just as his lighthearted teasing didn't fool her now. "You're taking this well..." she said now, slowly, measuring out the words. "Is there any other way to take it?" His voice was soft-edged, the tone he saved for her alone, and it curled around her, warm, unreserved. But it was hiding something... and she knew it. "Quantico isn't a world away, you know." It was half a proposal and half a plea... almost a protest... and her voice trembled. A hesitation, almost, before his reply. "You don't have to convince me, Scully." But she did, and she knew it. Quantico, and her old position as instructor, *was* a world away, and they both knew it. A world away from DC, from the basement offices, from the X Files, from him. They had felt it before, when their superiors had separated them, closed their files, thrust the walls between them... and they had rebelled, each of them, at that forced schizm. Now, she was the one who proposed it... and Mulder, unflinching, had recieved it like a blow he deserved. That, perhaps, was what had troubled her most... and troubled her now, as she suddenly recognized that expression she hadn't been able to place before. *He... expected this. Maybe not now, at this time, but he expected this, expected me to leave him...* They turned off the sidewalk, silent, cutting across the green expanse of a play field side by side, air dense with the sounds of children clambering over slides and swings on the far side, and Mulder stooped for a moment to pick up a fresh baseball, too clean to be anything other than a Christmas gift, and to pitch it towards a cluster of boys and girls with gloves and bats. He smiled at that, but the expression lingered, invisible but tangible, under the surface. *He's too accustomed to being left behind... he accepts it as part of life. As part of HIS life. Inevitable... unquestionable. Spooky Mulder, the loner.* She didn't know what to say to that unspoken fact. She wanted to contest it, to tell him that nothing would change, that he would always have a place in her life... that he was her best friend, bound to her with something stronger than any official duty as a partner, something more durable than any greeting-card promise of friendship. He was a part of her, and she knew that... almost as much as Emily was, now that she knew the facts of it. *But things will change. Emily is my daughter, and everything will change. And he knows that.* "Do I get to be Uncle Fox?" he asked softly, as if he'd heard her thoughts. Maybe he could. His tone was almost wistful. "I'd thought it would be Uncle Mulder." she replied, studying his face. He chuckled, looked up at the sky. "For someone under three feet tall, I think I can make an exception." And again he paused, about to say something else... then thought better of it. "This isn't the end, Mulder." And she stopped, and he stopped, and she stepped closer to him, taking his hands, squeezing to convey all the sincerity she felt. Her eyes prickled around the edges. *No, no, no... this is NOT the time to start crying...* "I never said that it was." His voice dropped even lower, troubled by the tears she was restraining, and he was looking at her now, his gaze so intense, so full of things he would not say, that she dropped her gaze, lowering her face. He raised it, gently, with two fingers, coaxing her to look at him again. He smiled, and caught the tear that fell almost in response to that tenderness. Then he drew her close, holding her, and she felt his own breath catch as she snaked her arms around him, returning the embrace. She tried to turn her face to look at him, but he placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair, preventing her from facing him. She felt that arm move upwards, leaving her for a moment... a quick motion, as one would use to brush away tears. She hugged him fiercely, perhaps more than was strictly necessary. "I'm still going to need you, Mulder..." she said, her voice muffled by his light jacket, by the warmth of him. "You're my partner. That's not going to change." "Everything's going to change..." he replied, and there was a faint echo in his voice, almost hollow, but he swallowed it. "Everything always changes, Scully. That's part of life. And you never needed me to begin with. You're strong. But... I'll always be there for you, Scully. Always. No matter what." He pulled back slightly, then cupped her face in his hands, meeting her liquid gaze. "But... for what it's worth... I'm always going to need you, too." For a moment they stood that way, one step out of time... and in that fixed gaze, that tender expression, Scully saw a promise to solidify those words into something almost as binding as a vow. She parted her lips to speak, but no voice came. Mulder smiled at that, and leaned closer... The baseball didn't hit them that hard, really... but they both jumped as though it had been a gunshot, whirling as one to the gangly boy chasing the fly. He paused, red-faced under a tangle of curls and baseball cap, as Mulder stooped to recapture the ball, and caught it neatly on the return. "Sorry..." he blurted, then turned and pelted in the opposite direction. The other children were clustered, whispering, faces glancing furtively at the two adults. Scully could swear she heard giggling. "Smooth move, Carter..." one of them called to the retriever, a good-natured taunt... and the game started again. Mulder coughed, and she felt her own face flushed. Mulder tilted his head... and they stepped off again, moving further from the children, to the other side of the field and the sidewalk that would curve around back to Bill Scully's home. "And you're sure you want one of those?" Mulder asked, when sufficient steps had passed. He was grinning, even as she tried to respond... and captured her hand for one brief squeeze before release. "Sure you do. Admit it." "I do." she said, obedient. She looked at him, wanting to say more... but found in her partner's returning expression none of the hurt she'd sensed only moments before. She sighed, relieved. "But... It's not official, the adoption... though I don't think they can contest it... and there's still the case... Mulder..." "We'll take it as it comes." he said firmly, evenly, his eyes unwavering. "As it comes." "I'm glad you're here, Mulder." She glanced behind them at the playground, at the children... and she knew her voice was soft with gratitude, and possibly more. Mulder did not reply to that for a long moment, and the sun turned all the houses dusky, and the white cement sidewalk a creamy rose. Then Mulder stopped in his tracks, and waited for her to turn around. When she did, pausing, she faced a grin... and Mulder tilted his head suggestively, almost pleadingly, as much to shake the last of the mood as to make her smile. "You're *sure* you don't want to get married?" And he turned his best puppy-dog expression on her... and his eyes twinkled in high good humor. "C'mon, Scully... run with me, here. Tell me it wouldn't be worth it, just to see the look on your brother's face when we announced it." She had to deliberately steady her face, and even then, she could not quite repress the chuckle, or the smirk, and had to look away or dissolve into giggles. *Oh, god, it would be worth it, too... and Mulder would be in his glory, playing it up.* Bill had NOT been happy to see her partner on his doorstep... and had not bothered to hide it. Instead, she forced her face into a mock-reproving frown, and glanced at him over a lowered chin. "Mulder, don't antagonize." "You never let me have any fun." But behind the teasing pout, she sensed a gathering of resolve... the same steady, committed energy she had felt coursing through her for days now. Work energy. He was ready to get to work... to treat this as a case, to be her partner, even more than her friend. It reinforced her, steadied her, and she turned her eyes up to meet his, allowing herself to smile. "Maybe next Christmas, Mulder." she said, and slipped her arm through his. "Come on. Let's go home." - finis -