~~~~ February 1996 ~~~~

Mulder had the gun oil and the clothes out 
on his dining room table, his palms flatted 
on either side as he stared down at his 
weapon.  It was a back up; they had taken 
his service piece as part of the 
investigation.  So it was just him and his 
long-nosed pistol, its barrel pointed at 
him like he'd just won a round of 'spin the 
bottle.'

The speakers in the other room blasted Led 
Zeppelin but there was no one around to 
complain because everyone else was at work.  
He had the bass cranked and the guitars 
wailing, sound reverberating off the walls 
until he could actually feel the vibrations 
inside him, racing along with his heart.

This was why he did not hear her pounding.

He saw only as something approaching at 
great speed out of the corner of his eye.  
He reacted on instinct.  

He grabbed the gun and he pointed.

"Jesus," she said, jerking back and raising 
her hands.

He dropped the weapon onto the table, where 
it clattered and spun to a stop.  "What the 
hell are you doing, bursting in here like 
that?" he demanded over the music.

"You didn't answer!" she shouted back.  She 
stalked across the room, her coat trailing 
her like a cape.  

As he turned to watch her, he saw that 
snowflakes were starting to drift past the 
windows outside.  They seem to swirl in 
time to the music, hypnotizing him so that 
he actually startled when she cut off the 
sound.

"I just talked to Skinner.  He told me 
about your little request.  He wanted to 
know if I knew anything about it, and of 
course I didn't.  Were you ever going to 
tell me?  Or was I going to show up one day 
and my key to the basement wouldn't work?"

"You've got to get out now, Scully," he 
said as he walked back to the table.  

Her heels hit sharply as she followed.  
"That's my decision, not yours.  How dare 
you request my transfer without consulting 
me?"

"I'll go instead then.  Would that work?  
You want the X-files?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Didn't think so."

He turned his back on her but she moved so 
she was in his line of sight again.  

"Mulder, you've been through a trauma.  
You're not thinking rationally--"

"I am thinking rationally!"  He banged on 
the table with both hands.  "Dammit, he 
might have had my thoughts two days ago, 
but I swear to you Scully, this is all me."

She swallowed under the force of his gaze 
and tried again.  

"What happened wasn't your fault," she said 
slowly, as if he were a dim-witted child, 
as if he hadn't been in the room with the 
gun pointed at her head and the voice 
inside him whispering "do it do it do it."

"I know that.  It was my theory to begin 
with, remember?  That Modell could force 
his will on others using only his thoughts?  
You think I would distrust my own 
assessment now simply because he plied his 
trade on me?"

"Then I don't understand," she said, moving 
closer to him.  "Why are you sending me 
away?  It's over.  Modell isn't going to 
hurt anyone again."

"So it won't be Modell.  So it will be 
someone or something else."

"Mulder--"

"This," he said forcefully, cutting her off 
as he gestured back and forth between them. 
"This is not going to end well, Scully.  
Either I'm dead or you're dead or maybe 
we'll go out together, but this little 
story doesn't have a happy ending."

"You think that now because of what 
happened two days ago."

"I almost shot you!" he yelled at her, as 
if she were the stupid one now.

"But you didn't."

"But I could have."

"You don't get to make decisions about my 
future," she said steadily.  "You don't 
have the right."

"Maybe it's my own future I'm concerned 
about.  Maybe you'll shoot me."

She looked shocked and horrified.  Good, it 
was about time.

"You did it before," he reminded her.

"That was different!"

"You shot me once, you could do it again."

"I wouldn't, not like that, not like you're 
suggesting."

He shook his head and turned around.  "If 
you'd been where I was two days ago, you 
wouldn't be so sure."

She grabbed his arm to make him face her 
and her fingers bit into his flesh.  "I was 
there!  I was there and that's what gives 
me the right to be sure."

"You didn't have the gun," he said, his 
voice low and dangerous.  He tried to break 
free but she held him tight.  

He couldn't believe how strong she was, how 
he had never noticed before.  This surprise 
more than anything kept him from escape.

"I get that you felt out of control," she 
said, "But you can't get it back by trying 
to control me."

"That is not what I'm doing."  He wouldn't 
look at her, so she pressed her free hand 
to his face; she wasn't strong enough to 
move his head.

Her thumb moved over his cheek in almost a 
caress.  "It wasn't you," she said.

He looked at her with sudden vehemence.  
"My sister.  Your sister.  My father.  
People keep disappearing here, Scully, and 
you know that better than anyone. We both 
got out alive this time, but tomorrow, next 
week, next year... the bullet's going to 
turn up in that chamber, and it won't 
matter whose hand is on the trigger.  I 
don't want to be the body and I sure as 
hell don't want to be the one left standing 
with blood on my hands."

Her face started to crumple as he talked 
and the pressure from her hand on his face 
faded.  He covered her hand with his own, 
holding it there so she could feel him nod.  
He meant it.

"Get out," he whispered, his voice 
roughened by the sight of her tears.  "I'm 
trying to make it easier."

"It's not. It never will be."

"Listen to me."  He grabbed her hard by the 
arms.  "I saw the end of that gun pointed 
right at your head.  My hand was just 
starting to pull down on the trigger..."

"Mulder, no..." She was crying openly, 
trying to get free from him, but he 
wouldn't let her.

"I felt it move.  My arm hurt from holding 
back.  I knew there was going to be this 
awful noise and in my mind I could see you 
falling..."

"I'm okay.  It didn't happen."  She sounded 
desperate, as though she was trying to 
convince herself instead of him.

"Part of me wanted it to happen."

He whispered the words and she froze before 
going limp in his grasp.

"He made me want it."  He looked down at 
her wide, wet eyes, staring into them until 
he saw her register the words.  

"Mulder, no," she said again.

"Mulder, yes."

He kissed her cruelly, almost mockingly, 
and her hands flew up to push him but she 
never completed the motion.  Instead her 
fingers snagged against his sweater like a 
cat's claws.  He caught her sob with his 
lips, still holding her up by the arms as 
he tasted the salt on her skin.  She was 
short and small and smelled like hairspray.  
He wanted to make her understand what was 
inside him, to feed her his broken heart in 
a kiss.

He felt the moment she turned angry again, 
twisting and trying with some force to get 
away, but he just tightened his grip.  This 
just made her hotter and she started 
kissing him back with equal ferocity, 
beating him at his own game.

He started walking her backward until she 
hit the wall with her shoulders and her 
eyes flew open; he felt the lashes sweep 
against his cheek.  The tiny butterfly 
sensation got through to him where the 
violence couldn't, and he pulled back with 
a gasp.

She stared up at him with round, shining 
eyes, her red mouth shaped in a perfect 'O' 
of terror and desire.  He could see his 
teeth marks on her skin.

Her hand came up, and he winced, preparing 
for a slap, but it never came.  When he 
opened his eyes, he saw she had the back of 
her hand pressed against her mouth, wiping 
him away.

Before he could speak, the phone rang, a 
single trill that echoed through the 
apartment until the machine cut it off.

Skinner appeared beside them in the form of 
a message, his voice as clear as if he'd 
been standing there watching the whole 
incident unfold.  "Mulder, this is 
Assistant Director Skinner," he said, 
sounding even more irritated than he 
usually did.  "I read your request.  It's 
denied."

He hung up and the dial tone buzzed loudly 
for a second before the machine wound the 
tape back.  Mulder looked over at it and 
saw the red light blinking, sealing his 
fate.

Scully straightened herself up and eased 
out from between him and the wall.

"It doesn't change anything," he said 
without turning around to look at her.

"You won't be rid of me this easily," she 
answered, and he then did turn to see her.

"You could be dead today because of me."

Her chin dropped a bit as she acknowledged 
the truth of that statement.  "I'm also 
alive today because of you.

She left after that, her heels stalking out 
of his apartment and fading down the hall.  
Mulder went to the window where he could 
watch her exit.  The snow had picked up 
speed, pouring from the sky like a burst 
pillow, and Scully stopped to pull up the 
hood on her wool coat.  As her copper-
colored hair disappeared she became just 
another foot soldier on the streets, faces 
invisible under hats and scarves.

But he tracked her movement down the 
pavement even as she blended in with the 
other people, easily picking out her shape 
and her gait from all those years of 
walking beside her.

I would know you anywhere, he thought, and 
went to jack up the music once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

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