A Brave New World Humility (3 of 4) by Vickie Moseley 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.