Changes 1
By Tracy (TracyCee) (1/?)

DISCLAIMER: Characters from the television show The X-Files used herein are the property of 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting Corp.
CATEGORY: MSR
RATING: Segment: G; Story: NC-17 we hope!
ARCHIVE: By permission of XayanFay@aol.com
SPOILERS: FTF, Season 6 Spoiler board
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully return to work but nothing is the same.
FEEDBACK: To PamalaSt@aol.com, TracyCee@aol.com, or XayanFay@aol.com
COMMENT: This story is a joint effort of the Over-30 Philes X-Files forum member group. "We're well past puberty, but we love The X-Files!"
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Part 1: 

HOOVER BUILDING
Monday, August 31, 7:58 a.m.


Any second, Scully would walk through the door of their new office. As the nondescript government clock on the wall neared 8 a.m., Mulder realized he hadn't given himself enough time to prepare, despite coming in an hour early.

Time. He had no idea what the future held, no idea what he and Scully would be assigned to next. After the hearing, Scully had gone to her mom's for a few weeks to recover after her ordeal in the Antarctic. Mulder had returned to work, feeling at loose ends without Scully by his side. He'd assisted in some cases for the Violent Crimes Section, but he was really biding his time.

Skinner had told him to hang tight. Because of Scully's unusual testimony, rumor had it that FBI management was actually considering reopening the X Files. Apparently, organizational changes in the works could affect that decision. In the tradition of great bureaucracies everywhere, the FBI was taking its sweet time deciding just what those changes would be.

For now, Scully was still his assigned partner, thank God. Since their basement office was in ruins, they had been placed in a surprisingly spacious room on the second floor of the Hoover Building. Mulder knew Scully would like their new digs, but he felt a definite nostalgia for the basement. It had been their world, and only theirs.

He wondered if Scully felt the same, even a little bit.

On the phone last night, their conversation had been surprisingly awkward. It had been the first time they'd spoken since she'd gone on leave. Between the small talk had hung unspoken questions: What if the X Files remained closed? How would they pursue the truth?

And other, more intimate questions: Did Dana Scully, the woman, want a deeper relationship with Fox Mulder, the man? If so, where would they go from here? And when? Should they wait until the upper echelons decided the fate of the X Files, or did it matter? Most important of all: Did Mulder want to risk ruining the most important relationship he'd ever had by trying to reach for an impossible dream?

The sound of the door opening was all the warning he received. He glanced up as Dana Scully entered. She was clad in a muted gray business suit, looking as healthy as before, as healthy as she'd been that night in the hallway outside his apartment. A grin stole over his face.

Her eyes immediately sought him out, and she smiled back, her blue eyes sparkling in the fluorescent lights. At that moment, Mulder couldn't remember why he'd felt nervous. Certainly, when it came to this particular territory, they both knew it inside out. They were partners, doing a job. As for the other...

"Hey." Mulder rose and crossed in front of his desk to stand before her. He began to lift his hands to clasp her shoulders, but stopped himself. Before, he wouldn't have questioned such a touch. Until he'd almost kissed her. Now, she might think such a gesture implied a possessiveness he had no right to feel. Even if that was how he really felt.

Instead, he crossed his arms and studied the porcelain skin of her face. "You look great. No more frostbite."

"None. So." She looked away from him and gave their new digs a slow perusal. Mulder had the feeling she was avoiding his gaze. "This is it, hmm?"

"This is where they put us."

"Nice. Not quite the same inspiring atmosphere as the basement, of course."

"Better lighting."

Could their conversation become anymore stilted, he wondered? Still, he couldn't yet bring himself to raise the question which burned in his mind, and in his heart. He shifted his feet, propped his hands on his hips, and again stalled. "Have a good vacation?"

She nodded and trailed her fingers across the top of her new and barren desk. "The first week was restful. The second week, I just wanted to come back here." Her eyes lifted and met his.

Mulder gazed back, a strange feeling thrumming along his spine. An unfamiliar tension hung in the air between them as he pondered her remark, and all its unspoken ramifications. Did she mean she wanted to come back to the job? Or to HIM? His stomach tied itself into a thousand knots, and he realized he couldn't stand the torture any longer. He had to end it. He had to know where they stood. It was all he'd thought about since she left. "Scully, I--"

"Mulder--" She started at the same time, making them both smile. He gestured for her to go first. She leaned against the front of her desk, her hands propped behind her. "I just want to say that I know what you went through, to rescue me."

He sat on the corner of his own desk and gave a self-deprecating shrug, but her sincere words warmed him through. "No more than the usual."

"Right," she said dryly. "Like it's standard Bureau practice to sneak out of the hospital after being shot in the head, fly half-way around the world, rent a snow tractor--an expenditure Skinner is having to fight to get approved, he told me--crawl around an alien spaceship, yank your partner out of deep-freeze, perform life-saving CPR on her, and carry her up a steep incline to get her out before they both end up as passengers to God knows where. The usual. Uh-huh."

He shrugged. "Hey, they already think I'm Spooky around here. What would they think if I had a lime freeze-pop for a partner?"

She smiled her okay-I-admit-you're-funny-sometimes smile. A brief burst of satisfaction filled him at his small victory. Then he focused his thoughts, studied his shoes for a moment, and lifted his gaze to hers. "After everything that's happened, I was thinking..." He faltered. How did he tell his platonic partner of five years that he'd fallen hopelessly in love with her?

Scully came to his rescue with a curt nod and a thoroughly business-like tone. "Me, too. I know what's important, Mulder. I've thought about it a lot. It's clear where we need to put our energies."

Mulder watched her tightly controlled expression, saw the veneer of professionalism which she had put in place to override any more dangerous emotions. So that's how she wanted to play it. She'd already made a choice. The career first. Of course. He'd known she'd make that choice. He'd always known it. Before he could stop it, a sigh issued from his throat. "Exactly," he lied. "Considering everything..."

"Since we're partners again--"

"Partners."

She nodded again, appearing composed. Then she sucked her lower lip between her teeth, drawing his eyes to her mouth. He'd almost kissed those lush lips. Almost. The merest brush--that was all. Almost as if it hadn't happened at all.

"Mulder..." Her soft tone pulled his gaze to her incandescent eyes, and his heart tightened painfully. In that unguarded moment, he could see beyond her mask to the woman beneath, a woman who was secretly, silently admitting her decision hadn't come easily.

She took the smallest step toward him, but that was all the encouragement he needed. He spread his arms and she came into them, the feel of her soft, womanly body against his sending a rush of heat through him. He tucked her head under his chin and stroked his hand along her back--gently, avoiding any hint of sexual possessiveness. As a friend--not a lover--would offer comfort. He had
to accept the truth, in all its forms. He would never be Dana Scully's lover.

He rubbed his cheek against her silken hair, concentrating hard to remember the texture, the smell of her. He didn't know if he'd ever have the chance to hold her again, and he had to commit the experience to memory.

Scully's chest vibrated against his stomach and she uttered a small noise. Mulder wondered if she were trying not to cry. No, of course not. He loved her, but that didn't mean she loved him, not in that way. He wasn't that delusional.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to remind himself to be happy with what he had. His partner, alive and well and back at his side. He had to be content with that. He would be content. But nothing would change the unspoken truth.

I love you. His lips formed the words above her head, silently so she couldn't hear, or know.

********

Outside their office, Agent Jeffery Spender froze. Through the six-inch crack in the open door, he caught a glimpse of Agent Scully's back, and Agent Mulder's arms tight around her.

Before he could think twice, he lifted his hand and applied gentle pressure on the door, making it swing open another foot. It moved without a sound. The two were so engrossed in their lovers' embrace, they didn't even look up. But Spender had seen all he needed to see.

Frowning, he backed away from the door just as Agent Mulder pressed a kiss to the top of his partner's head. Definitely a violation of protocol, Spender thought. Now he had to decide what to do about it.

By the time he'd turned down the hall, his frown had transformed into a smile.

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