Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Agent Scully, you’ve had a good long time to think about the question that was asked in our last session. I want to give you the opportunity to answer that question here today, so I can help our good chairman here to get on with this proceeding.”

“I can’t answer that question, sir.”

“I’m going to ask you again. Where is Special Agent Mulder?  Why is he not here?”

“I’d be happy to answer your questions about the man carrying the diplomatic pouch.”

“Agent Scully-” 

“About his murder, and my opinion about its connection to the death of Dr. Bonita Charne-Sayre of the World Health Organization.”

“Miss Scully, you’ll get your chance with all of that-”

“Or about the biotoxin being transported within that pouch.”

“Answer the question Miss Scully.”

“What is the question?”

Scully replayed the moment Mulder interrupted the senate hearings over and over in her mind.  She’d never felt such total and utter relief in all of her life.  She’d never been so god damn elated at the sound of someone’s voice and she was pretty sure the surprise and joy had been written all over her face.  She’d never felt anything like the way her heart had stopped and then kicked into overdrive when she’d turned around and saw him casually coming towards her.  It was exhilarating, almost euphoric.  

That euphoria was to be short-lived, however.  They’d had work to do and once the dust was settled, she hadn’t had much time to dwell on how she could have played the game more wisely and what she could have done differently, though she did dwell on it enough to produce some sleepless nights and a handful of tension headaches.  As it turned out, Mulder was also being kept up at night, but by hauntingly eerie dreams of missing girls and heart-shaped fabric cut-outs and the case that unraveled as a result shifted her focus.

Only days later, she was hesitant on leaving him behind for her planned Christmas vacation, but he’d reassured her he’d be fine and to send his well-wishes to her mother.  She’d endured her mother’s annual holiday dinner and midnight mass and the fawning over her brother, Bill, and his new wife, Tara, and the not-so-subtle inferences from her mother’s friends, and even Father McCue, that she should start thinking about settling down now as well.  She responded with tight-lipped smiles, hoping that Mulder might call suddenly with an urgent case to pull her away, but no such luck.

With the festivities over, she started mulling over the congressional power play with renewed fervor.  A random thought crept into her brain late one night and wouldn’t let go.  Maybe because it was so late or maybe because she’d been sleeping so poorly as of late it felt like such an obvious solution.  Before she could talk herself out of it, she drove to Mulder’s apartment right then and there, in the middle of the night, and let herself in with her key.  The TV was on mute and Mulder was asleep on the couch in a white t-shirt and jeans, arms folded across his chest like he was hugging himself while the light from infomercials flickered across his face.

“Mulder,” she whispered, putting a hand on his forearm as she crouched low in front of his coffee table.

Mulder came to with a sudden jerk, then a stretch, and a roll of his eyes.  He frowned and turned his head from the light and murmured Scully’s name inside of a yawn.  “Timessit?” he mumbled.

“It’s late,” she said.  “I’m sorry.  But, this couldn’t wait.”

It took him a few moments, but Mulder sat up.  Scully rose up a little to sit at the edge of the coffee table as he bent forward with his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face with both hands.  He yawned again and squinted up at her.

“We have to get married,” she said.

Mulder blinked a few times and then scrubbed his face again, pulling the skin of his cheeks down with the pads of his fingers for a few moments until he shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Scully, I must be still asleep, it sounded like you just said we have to get married.”

“That’s what I said.”

He looked back up at her with his bleary, sleep-watery eyes, his lips twisted into a question mark.  She suddenly realized how irrational she must seem at the moment, proposing marriage to her half-asleep partner at 2am, in her slippers and a sweatshirt hastily thrown over her silk pajamas.  She was about to take it back, to tell him to go back to sleep, that it really was all a dream, but Mulder leaned back and raised his arms up behind his head and looked up at the ceiling like he was in deep consideration.  His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and then pursed his lips.

“You must have really missed me these last four days,” he said, glancing down his nose at her.  “Either that or you’re planning ahead to fulfill some seriously interesting new year’s resolutions.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the hearing, Mulder.  About how we can better protect ourselves.  How we can better protect each other.  And I…Mulder, I don’t ever want to be in that position again.”

“You think they couldn’t, for example, hold you in contempt of congress for refusing to reveal my whereabouts if we had spousal immunity?  Is that where you’re going with this?”

“They put me in detention, Mulder.  I had no way of…I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.  I had no way of contacting you.  I didn’t know if you needed rescuing or not.  That can’t happen again.  And if the situation were reversed, I think…I know you would feel the same.”

Mulder stared up at the ceiling for a bit longer before he looked down at her again.  His eyes gleamed with the light from the TV.  It was quiet, save for the gentle gurgling coming from the fish tank, but then Mulder took in a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks, and pushed out a heavy sigh.  He rocked forward and then reached for Scully’s hands, taking them both and squeezing lightly.

“Scully…”

She could hear the rejection in his tone before he said anything further and she pulled her hands free.  “Nevermind,” she said, quickly.  Embarrassment swooped in on her in an instant and she felt heat bloom across her cheeks and drop like a stone inside her gut.  

“I just want you to be sure of what you’re asking,” he said, taking her hands back into his and rubbing gentle circles into her palms.  “What it would mean.”

She was flustered now, and hot all over.  Her eyes watered as she stammered.  “It’s…it would just be a piece of paper.  One that would ensure we’d both be protected from disclosing privileged information and it would allow us access to each other when we might need it the most.”

“Conjugal visits?”  He shook her hands lightly and tilted his head in amusement, but then sobered off her distressed look.  She pulled her hands away from him with more force than was necessary as she slid backwards on the table.

Mulder leaned back against the cushions again, but crossed his arms over his chest this time and rubbed his hands over his biceps.  She looked down at her lap feeling awkward and foolish and irritated.

“Let me think about it,” he said.

She nodded vaguely to acknowledge she’d heard him, but kept her eyes on her lap.  “I’ll go.  You can get back to sleep.”

“I might have a little too much on my mind for that.”  He chuckled softly.  “You okay to drive home?  It’s late.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”  She nodded, and then had to hold her fist to her mouth to cover a yawn.  “I’m fine.”

He nodded, but the way his mouth puckered and tightened told her he didn’t believe her.  After a few beats of silence, she slid off of the table and he pushed himself up from the couch to walk her to the door.

“Call me when you get home so I know you’re safe,” he said, his hand coming up to rest briefly between her shoulder blades.

“I will.”  She nodded, taking a side glance at him as she stepped through the door.  Though she didn’t look back, she could feel his eyes on her as she walked away and waited for the elevator.

Once Scully was out of the door and back in her car, that’s when she started to really evaluate what she’d just done.  She’d essentially proposed a marriage of convenience to Mulder out of nowhere.  And he was right.  She hadn’t been thinking much beyond the legal protection it would afford them, but it would mean something.  It would mean they would be bound to each other forever.  Is that what she really wanted?

She did as Mulder asked when she got home and called him from her landline so he would know she was safe and sound.  He picked up on the first ring and the conversation was stilted, no more than the standard ‘Mulder, it’s me’ and a ‘glad you got home okay.’  She didn’t sleep for the rest of the night and spent the next two days furiously cleaning her apartment from top to bottom just to have something to distract herself.  

December 31st, Mulder called her early in the morning. “Meet me outside in ten minutes,” he said.  He sounded casual and light, there was nothing urgent or frenzied in his tone, but she was skeptical.   

“Why?”

“I’ve got something I can’t do alone.  I’ll have you back within an hour.”

“Do I need a weapon?”

“I sure hope not,” he answered, with a slight chuckle, and then hung up.

Mulder was already there when she made her way outside, double-parked in front of the entrance to her apartment building.  He handed her a styrofoam cup when she got in the passenger side and she sniffed it suspiciously before buckling her seatbelt.

“Hot chocolate?” she asked.

“With mini-marshmallows,” he answered.  “Though I’m pretty sure they’re melted by now.”

“You going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Virginia,” he said, and that was all he would give her.

Less than twenty minutes later, they arrived in downtown Arlington and Mulder pulled into a parking lot strategically surrounded by office buildings.  He turned off the car and then sat back in the seat and turned towards her.

“So, I did a little research,” he said.  “There aren’t any blood tests or waiting periods necessary in Virginia to get married.”

“Oh,” she answered, a nervous heat flushing through her.  “Is that…are we…?”

“First thing’s first.  The Virginia Circuit Court is just across the street.  We need a license.  And from there, we’ll have 60 days to tie the knot.”

She breathed a small sigh of relief.  Even if getting married was her idea, she did need to mentally prepare herself to say ‘I do.’  She also wouldn’t put it past Mulder to blindside her with an unexpected wedding.  Nothing was ever out of the realm of possibility when it came to him.

“So, you’ve thought about…my proposal,” she said.

“I admit, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t get down on one knee to ask, but after giving it some thought, I think you’re right.  We could probably use a little legal protection on our side.”

“Even if it means that-”

“I thought it didn’t mean anything.”

She shook her head and stared down at the cup of hot chocolate she held in her lap.  “I know I said that, but…it’s not an arrangement we can just easily walk away from.”

“Why would I want to walk away from it?”

“I just mean…what if you meet someone?”

“You know me, I’m a one-track mind kind of guy.  I’m pretty much married to the job, and you’re a part of that, so if you really think about it…we’d just be making it official.”  He chuckled and she returned a weak smile.  “But, if you should meet someone…”

“Let’s just agree to cross that bridge when and if that happens.”

“Agreed.  I do have a few conditions, though.”

Her brow shot up and she lifted her eyes to him in surprise.  “What kind of conditions?”

“We do this in a way that can’t be questioned later.  We’re getting a real license, not something mocked up by the gunmen to look real.  I’m guessing you probably don’t want to get married in a church and that’s fine by me, but we need to have a real civil service.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll need to tell your mother.”

She hesitated.  She hadn’t planned on telling anyone, least of all her mother, unless it was absolutely necessary, but it’s true that keeping the marriage a secret could make the charade utterly useless if they ever had to pull that ace card out and it was proven to be invalid.

“And you can’t tell her it’s a lie either,” he added.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Tell her we’ve been keeping our relationship under wraps because of bureau policy, and we’ll be continuing on as though nothing has changed.”

“She’s not going to understand that.”

“She doesn’t have to understand it, she just has to believe it.”

“Are you going to tell your mother?”

“I kind of already have.”

“You…have?”

“Well...”  Mulder pulled back the lapel of his overcoat and dug his hand into the inside breast pocket.  A few moments later he pulled out a small, black velvet, drawstring bag.  “Hold out your hand.”

Scully pulled her left hand up to her chest with her fingers curled into a loose fist in momentary hesitation, but then extended her arm out to him and put her palm up.  Mulder poured out the contents from his bag into her hand and she gasped a little.  She was left holding a square-cut diamond ring that appeared to be an antique.  

“It was my grandmother’s,” Mulder said, plucking the small ring from her palm and fitting it onto the tip of his little finger.  “My father’s mother, Ruth.  She married my grandfather, Leo, in 1932.”

“I can’t…I can’t take this, Mulder.”

“You don’t have to wear it, but you need to have access to it.  It normally sits in a safety deposit box up in Boston, but I’ll open up one here.  Your name will be on the papers.  Try it on, we can have it resized if it doesn’t fit.”  He held his little finger out to her and wiggled it softly in invitation.

“Mulder…how the hell did you do all this in two days?”

“I asked my mother to pull it out from the bank and I flew up to get it yesterday.  She sends her regards.”

Scully gaped at the ring for a few moments and then finally gave her hand over to Mulder and he slid the ring onto her finger.  It was a tad loose, but if she wasn’t going to wear it regularly, it was acceptable.  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

“It fits?”

“Well enough.”  She was about to remove it from her finger, but Mulder stopped her and shook his head.

“Wear it inside.  It helps to look the part.”

“Oh.  Of course.”  Scully nodded slightly and pushed the ring back down to the end of her finger with her thumb.  Things were moving more quickly than she had imagined and her head was spinning a little. 

“I’ve got a gold band at home.  Forgot to bring it with me, but I’ll give it to you for safe keeping.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll also need you to sign a prenup.”

She frowned a little and her brows came together.  “Mulder, there’s no reas-”

“I know you probably think it’s silly or uncalled for, but there’s no way my lawyer would let me get married without one.”

“You have a lawyer?”

“My family does.  There’s a lot of…assets that need handling.”

“Oh.”

“So if you think you can get your hands on the fish if things go sour, think again.”

She snorted a little and dropped her eyes again.  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but is there anything else?”

He drummed his fingers at the bottom of the steering wheel for a few moments.  Suddenly, he got out of the car and he was at the passenger door before she even had her seatbelt off.  He held his hand out to her and she gave him a questioning look.  He closed and opened his hand once in silent invitation and she finally took it and let him help her from the car.  She was still holding the half-empty cup of hot chocolate which he took from her and placed onto the roof.

“If it’s going to look real, you can’t flinch or pull away when I do this…”  He put his hands on her hips and pushed her gently back against the car door as he leaned into her.  And then he kissed her.  It wasn’t passionate, but it wasn’t a quick, friendly peck on the lips either.  Scully reeled a little with shock, then recovered her wits and pushed him abruptly away with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

“Mulder!”

“It can’t look like we’ve never done this before.”

“But, we haven’t done this before!”

“That’s exactly my point.”

“You could’ve…you could’ve at least warned me.”

“Alright, here’s your warning.  I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Wait.”  She put a hand up to his chest and he took it with both of his own and caressed her palm with his thumb.  Her heart was thumping wildly against her chest at that point.  “Why?”

“When they say, you may now kiss the bride, are you going to say ‘wait?’” he asked.

She hesitated.  “Of course not,” she answered, though her voice did not hold a lot of confidence.

“Uh huh.  We need to get it out of the way.  And it’s a good thing we’ve got 60 days to practice.”

Scully’s eyes grew wide and Mulder chuckled.  Her brows came together pensively and she turned her head to the side in frustration and embarrassment.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “Maybe I can’t do this.”

“Am I that unappealing?  Hey.”  He brushed the knuckle of his index finger along her jaw so that she would look at him.  He smiled and brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss her wrist.  He never broke eye contact with her as he cupped her jaw and brushed his thumb across her cheek.

Suddenly, Scully was struck by the absurdity of the situation.  She was pinned to the side of the car while her partner was currently pretending to seduce her, all so they could make a silly kiss look real as proof of a fake marriage.  Her lips quivered with a smile that never quite reached its full potential when she realized that Mulder may actually be taking this seriously.

“Mulder, I…”

“Close your eyes.” 

She protested with a weak shake of her head, but he leaned into her space again, this time with his arm up, resting above her head along the rim of the door.  His body heat enveloped her, making her feel drowsy.  Her eyelids drooped and he dipped his head, this time moving in to kiss the left side of her mouth, and then the right.  He turned his head again and then pressed his lips fully to hers.  It wasn’t as startling that time around, it was actually quite pleasant.  His lips were warm and soft.  Their teeth didn’t clash, their noses didn’t interfere with each other, and there was no unwanted invasion of his tongue into her mouth.  She’d had worse kisses in her lifetime, but she’d also had better.  There was a light smack of their lips coming apart when he pulled away and she found herself weaving her head towards him slightly as though seeking out more.

“That’s better,” he said, brushing the corner of her mouth with his thumb.  “A little dazed beats utterly horrified.”

“I was not horrified.”

“Hey, I’m just glad I didn’t get a right hook as a response.”

“No, if anything you should expect the left.”

He smiled and she swore there was a twinkle in his eye.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Several moments passed and neither moved.  He still hovered over her and she stayed leaning back against the car.  A light breeze lifted her hair up to brush her cheek and Mulder swept it back over her ear for her.

“So,” she said.  “Is that…is that all?”

“That’s all,” he answered, shifting his feet back and straightening.  “Unless you want to add anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Shall we, then?” he asked, holding his hand out to her again and she didn’t hesitate to take it this time.  He grabbed the cup off the roof and she took it from him to throw away when they passed a garbage can.  She kept her hand in his as they walked to the corner and then waited at the crosswalk for the pedestrian light to change.  She shivered, leaning into him to steal some of his warmth and he let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulder.

“For the record,” she said, tipping her face up to him.  “You’re not that unappealing.”

He laughed lightly and looked down at her.  “For the record, neither are you.”

“Is this crazy, Mulder?”

“Probably.  But, definitely not the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”  He gave a shrug.  It seemed for a moment he was going to say something more, but then the light changed and they crossed the street.  

The inside of the clerk’s office was quiet, though the faint sound of a radio could be heard from somewhere in the back.  There was one couple at the window ahead of them, their heads bent over the paperwork strewn across the counter.  

The wait wasn’t long, but Scully felt antsy and tense with each passing minute.  She jumped slightly when Mulder put his hands on her shoulders and leaned over to put his lips close to the shell of her ear.  “Relax,” he whispered, slipping one arm over her chest and pulling her back into him.

She tipped her head back and lifted her hands to hold onto his arm across her chest.  “How are you so calm?” she whispered back.

“Because this was your idea and I trust your judgment.”  He kissed her cheek and then straightened, but kept his hold on her, moving his other hand to rest on her hip.

The couple in front of them finished, walking away from the window in a lip-lock with their arms around each other.  Oblivious and giddy, they nearly bumped into them, but Mulder pulled Scully back with him against the wall to avoid collision.

“Next,” the clerk called.

“We’re up,” Mulder said, moving his arm down so that it was around Scully’s waist and they moved to the window as a pair.

“Current IDs,” the clerk said, without even looking up from the papers she was stapling.

Mulder and Scully both retrieved their driver’s licenses and slid them across the counter.  The clerk took a glance at both, pulled a form from a tray and handed it over with a pen.  “Fill out the top, sign the bottom.  $25 payable by cash or check.”

“You’ve got better handwriting,” Mulder said, pushing the form over to Scully’s side.  “I’ll get the check.”

It took less than five minutes for their IDs to be returned, the check to be collected, and for a small manila envelope holding a marriage license to be placed into their hands.  It was all too easy and almost anti-climatic.  Scully took possession of the envelope and Mulder took her hand, bringing her knuckles to his mouth as they headed for the door.

“Step one,” he said.  “Now, we just need to set a date.”

The manila envelope sat in Scully’s lap for the drive home.  Several times over, her hands moved to open it, to look at it, but she stopped herself every time.  This was more than just an idea now, it was taking shape.  There was a ring on her finger that hadn’t been there this morning.  Mulder had kissed her, had talked about prenups and of telling their mothers.

“What are you doing tonight?” Mulder asked.

Scully looked up, surprised to find that they were parked in front of her building.  “Tonight?”

“Yeah.  New Year’s Eve.  Plans?”

“No, I…no, no plans.”

“You want to hang out?”

“You don’t have plans?”

“Nothing I can’t cancel to hang out with my fiance.”

Scully dropped her head and ran her fingers over the edges of the manila envelope.  She noticed the ring on her finger that she’d forgotten about and she went to remove it, but Mulder’s hand covered hers.

“Keep it safe,” he said.

“I’ll…call you later.  If I feel like doing something.”

“I’ll be around.”

Scully got out of the car and as usual, Mulder waited until she’d opened her front door to drive off.  When she got inside her apartment she noted that he’d kept his promise, he had her back just shy of an hour.  She finally took the license out of the envelope and looked it over.  It was hard to believe that sheet of paper authorized her and Mulder to get married in the state of Virginia, no questions asked.  

Of course, there was still time to back out.  They had 60 days until the license expired and either of them could always change their mind.  The license didn’t declare them married, it just permitted them to.  She tucked the slip of paper back into the envelope and put the envelope into her dresser drawer, out of sight and out of mind.  The ring that he gave her went into her jewelry box until he was to acquire the safe deposit box for it.

A mild headache began to form behind her eyes so Scully decided on a power nap before doing a bit of grocery shopping.  She’d be returning to the office in two days and needed to get back to her routine.  Vacations were nice, but she liked the structure her work provided.

Later that evening when she sat down to the baked chicken dinner she’d made for herself, melancholy fell over her.  She didn’t know how it happened that she became a person that ate alone most evenings and didn’t have plans for New Year’s Eve.  She was never big on parties, but either her friend Ellen or her sister used to make sure she wasn’t spending the holiday alone.  Her sister wasn’t here anymore and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with Ellen.  Maybe she should call Mulder and take him up on his offer.

It was ironic that Scully took more time convincing herself to spend New Year’s Eve with Mulder than she’d spend considering asking him to marry her.  She spent nearly an hour waffling on whether or not she would call and then she finally decided that she would drive to his apartment and if he was there, she would stay, but if he wasn’t, it was a sign that he’d gone ahead with whatever plans he’d made.

At his door, Scully tried to listen first for sounds that Mulder might be inside, but it was silent.  She knocked lightly and was ready to walk away after only a few moments, but the door opened and he looked pleasantly surprised to see her.  By the looks of things, with his chest bare and jeans half-buttoned and damp hair, he may have been getting ready to go out.  She held up an unopened bottle of champagne she’d found in her cupboard and he took it with a broad smile and then ushered her inside.

She lingered by the door.  “Are you headed out?”

“You didn’t call, so…”

“I’ll go.”

He caught her by the elbow before she turned and shook his head.  “Let me put this in the freezer to chill.”

“Mulder, I should go.  You’re right, I was supposed to call.  You had plans.”

“You’re saving me from a night of Dungeons & Dragons and cheap beer.”

“The gunmen?”

“Bingo.  Go make yourself at home.  Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine.”

Mulder took a few steps backwards towards the kitchen like he was afraid she might leave if he turned around.  She took her coat off so he could rest assured she was staying and then unzipped her boots as well.  A black and white movie was playing on the TV, volume low.  She sat down on the couch and tried to figure out what he’d been watching, but it didn’t seem familiar.  Mulder disappeared into his room after coming out of the kitchen and then reemerged pulling a gray t-shirt over his head before he sat down beside her.

“You like Plan 9?” he asked.

“Plan 9?”

“The movie.  Plan 9 From Outer Space.”

“Is that what this is?  I’ve never seen it.”

“Never?”

Scully shook her head.  

“It’s my favorite.  I’ve seen it 39 times.”

“39…Mulder, isn’t Plan 9 supposed to be the worst movie ever made and you’ve seen it 39 times?”  She was surprised, yet not surprised by this fact.

“Oh, it’s terrible, but it’s so profoundly bad it can actually…hang on, this part is great…’Because all of you of Earth are idiots!’”  He gave a short laugh and grinned over at Scully.  

“39 times?”

“Technically this is 40.”

Scully cocked her head and frowned a little, but then her brows came together rather pensively and she turned away to stare at the TV.  Mulder leaned over and cocked his head as well and then bumped his shoulder into hers.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“I’m just surprised that there are things like this I don’t know about you.”

“Well, now you know.”

“I know, but…”

Mulder picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned off the TV.  “What do you want to know?”

She paused and shook her head slightly.  “I guess I’m just realizing that…it’s not like I’m marrying a stranger, but…I don’t really know you.”

“It’s just a movie, it’s not that important.”

“You’re right.”  She waved her hand dismissively.  “And now I know.  You’ve seen Plan 9 From Outer Space 40 times.”

“More like 39 and ¾.”  He leaned over and bumped her shoulder with his again.  “Your favorite is The Exorcist, so you once claimed.”

“It is.”

“You want to watch it?  I’ve got the VHS around here somewhere.”

“You do?”

“It’s a good flick.”

“Sure.”

Mulder put the movie on and as they settled in to watch, the reality of what a fake marriage would actually entail started to set in for Scully.  It was one thing to sign a piece of paper or to wear a ring, but could they pull it off if push came to shove?  They could make all the claims they wanted about having a secret relationship, but how could they validate those claims when she couldn’t answer something as simple as what her husband’s favorite movie was?

Her thoughts distracted her and it was hard for her to give her attention over to the movie.  Mulder tried to make conversation with her, dropping facts and tidbits about the film or regaling her with exorcism stories from x-files.  At some point, she closed her eyes and she must have drifted off the sleep because the next thing she knew, Mulder was shaking her shoulder and she was startled awake.

“Five minutes to midnight,” he said.

Scully pushed herself up straight and then rubbed her eyes.  The champagne she’d brought was on the table along with a single wine glass and a beer stein.  The movie was off, or at least no longer playing, and had been replaced by Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you conked out on me,” he answered with a chuckle, pouring the champagne.  “I’m sure it won’t be the last either.  I don’t have any champagne flutes.”

“That’s okay.”

Time seemed to wind down quickly.  There was only twenty seconds to the new year when Mulder sat back and put his arm around her.  He smiled at her when she tipped her head back to look up at him and then he was counting down, each number punctuated by a small nod.  His eyes were on her mouth and she braced herself, her stomach flipping when it occurred to her he was about to kiss her.

“Five…four…three…two…one…happy new year, Scully.”

“Happy new year,” she murmured, surprised and a little disappointed when all he did was tap his beer stein gently with her wine glass.

They both took a sip of the champagne and then Mulder settled back and she did as well.  She would have to admit it was nice, spending a casual evening with him, sleepily sipping champagne, to see this side of him that she never got to see.

“This is nice,” she murmured, unintentionally. 

“Yeah?”  He laughed and took another sip of his champagne.  

She studied the side of his face for a few moments as he drank the champagne and then looked down into the bubbles fizzing up and popping in her glass.  She wondered what a real marriage to Mulder would look like.  Would it be nights like this?  Would those be few and far between amongst the clandestine trips to secret government containment facilities in the middle of the night and the sudden urge to chase lights in the sky halfway across the country?  Would he even be capable of putting his energy into a real relationship?  Would anyone even believe that she’d marry him?  She frowned at the thoughts that rolled in like the dark clouds of a thunderstorm.

“Mulder, if…if push came to shove, do you think we’d be able to actually convince people we’re married?”

“People already think we’re married.”

“What people?”

“What people?”  Mulder lowered his beer stein and tipped his head at her.  “You don’t hear the gossip around the water cooler?  Or, the amount of times some well-meaning check-in clerk at a motel asks if we’d like a queen or a king room?  Not to mention the fishing expeditions into our relationship status by other agents or local PD trying to get your number and not wanting to step on my toes.”

“That’s never happened.”

“It happens all the time.”

She was shocked by that piece of information.  She’d been casually hit on a handful of times over the years, but Mulder was making it seem as though it was a regular occurrence.  “You’ve never told me that.”

It took a few moments for Mulder to answer and he only did so after taking a sip of his champagne.  “I guess I figured that if you wanted to get one of their numbers that you would’ve done it yourself.”

“That would be highly inappropriate.”

“Well, I guess now when they ask I can just tell them you’re spoken for.”

“What do you usually say?”

“That your personal life is none of my business.”  He paused and looked over at her.  “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?  You’re smart, attractive, awesome at what you do, probably the best in the bureau, let’s be real.  Who wouldn’t want your number?”

“Come on…”

“I’m serious, Scully.  You know, if we’d met under different circumstances, I’d probably have asked for it.”

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous.”  She moved forward to set her glass on the coffee table, but Mulder squeezed her shoulder and pulled her closer instead.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.  “Maybe we will have a hard time convincing people after all.”

She sighed.  “No, you’re very convincing, it would be me.  I just have a hard time lying.”

“Oh.”  He finished the champagne in his stein and then moved his arm from around her to sit forward.  He turned the TV off and she moved forward to the edge of the couch as well to finally put her glass down.

“I should go.”  She rubbed at her bleary eyes and blinked a few times.

“You okay to drive?”

“I barely had one glass of champagne.”

He nodded slightly and got up with her when she stood and stretched.  Once she’d slipped her shoes on he helped her into her coat and then held onto the lapels and gave them a little shake.

“Thanks for coming.  And happy new year.”

“Happy new year, Mulder.”

He bent and kissed her cheek and then let her go.  The hallway was quiet and warm as she made her way to the elevator.  She turned back several times, a part of her hoping that Mulder would suddenly be there behind her, calling her back inside, but he’d already shut the door behind her and she didn’t know why, but it felt like a rejection of some kind.

She slept fitfully again, filled with a restlessness she couldn’t explain.  She was agitated and anxious the next morning like she was waiting for something to happen, but didn’t know what.  Her head was pounding when she flipped through her calendar, trying to find an open date within the next 59 days that didn’t conflict with other plans.  The only date she could come up with was February 7th, which seemed entirely too soon.

When she arrived at work on Monday morning, she affixed a Post-It to Mulder’s blotter with the date and a question mark and he nodded at it and then folded it into a little square and tucked it into his wallet.  He then proceeded to tell her to grab her overnight bag, that they were headed to Fresno, California. They slipped back into the groove of work with ease and she welcomed the routine.  The week felt like a reprieve.  She was too busy trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Mulder was convinced they were hunting a mythical chupacabra to think about the fact that they were less than five weeks away from getting married, or how she was going to tell her mother.

After the case was wrapped up and they were back at home, Mulder knocked on her door at noon on Saturday, bearing Subway sandwiches and a banker’s box that he dropped onto her dining table with a thud.

“It’s Saturday,” she muttered, grumpily plucking at the lid of the box, but Mulder put his hand on it and kept it closed.  

“It’s not work,” he answered, tapping the top of the box lightly with his index and third finger before he turned to her refrigerator and started helping himself to a pitcher of iced tea.

“What is it?”

“First, we have an appointment at the Falls Church City Hall with a civil marriage celebrant on February 7th.”  He brought two glasses to the table from her cupboard and pulled out a chair for her to sit.

“Okay.”

“And second, you got me thinking on New Year’s.  What you said about not knowing each other.”   

“I was just in a mood.”  She waved her hand dismissively as she sat down.

“No, you’re right.  If we need to put this marriage to use and declare ourselves above the law, we need to plan accordingly.”

“We have a real license.  We’re going to have a real justice of the peace proclaiming us married.  That’s not above the law at all, that’s well within the parameters of the law.”

“That was my initial thought too, and then after this last case I thought…green cards.”

“Green cards?”

“People who marry for green cards.  The immigration process.”

“We’re not trying to get green cards, Mulder.”

“No, just trying to pull one over on the U.S. government.”  He poured tea for both of them and then sat down across from her.  “I had the boys hack into immigration and do some poking around.”

“You…told them?”

“No, I couldn’t risk breaking Frohike’s heart like that and ask a favor at the same time.  I just asked them for a copy of a questionnaire, or some of what they look for if they want to confirm or discredit a marriage.”

Mulder leaned to one side and reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded packet of papers, stapled at one corner.  He unfolded it, smoothed it out, and then handed it over to her.  Scully took it, but only took a brief glance at it.

“They get pretty invasive in those investigations, don’t they?” she asked.  “Home visits.  Interviews with friends and family.”

“You said you didn’t want to lie.”

“I said I had a hard time with it.”

“Well, how do you prove a lie, Scully?”

“You can’t.”

“Sure you can, with the truth.”

Scully pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.  Mulder seized the opportunity to unwrap their sandwiches and put hers on a plate.  Tuna, no mayo, extra pickles for her.  She could smell the marinara from his meatball sub wafting towards her as he opened his up.  It made her stomach rumble, but she didn’t eat.  She looked at the papers on the table and then back up to Mulder.

“Some of them are pretty easy,” he said, wiping his mouth after taking a bite of his sandwich.  “How many brothers and sisters does your spouse have, what are their names, have you met their parents, things like that.”

“The first question here is how long have you lived together.”

“We don’t live together.”

“And why not?”

“We didn’t want anyone at work to find out that we’re married so we thought it best not to cohabitate.”  

“That’s…within the bounds of the truth, I suppose.”

“See.  Ask me another.”

She hesitated so long that Mulder reached over and took the papers.  He scanned it for a few moments and then looked up at her.

“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” he asked.

“From what perspective?”

“Standing at the foot, facing the head.”

“The left.”

“Great, I sleep on the right.  No lies there.  And what about this one, what does your spouse eat for breakfast?  That’s easy.  You like to eat light, usually just half of a plain bagel with lite cream cheese, an orange if they’re available, and you like a cup of coffee with one cream and one sweet ‘n low.”

“That’s during the weekday.  What about the weekends?”

Mulder squinted slightly.  “That’s a trick question,” he answered.

“How so?”

“Because you don’t do breakfast on the weekends, you do brunch.  Usually with your mother on Sunday if we’re in town, and you like a western omelette.”  

Scully narrowed her eyes a little as Mulder grinned at her.  She took the papers back from him and looked over them a little more carefully.  He was right, there were definitely questions there that they could get away with answering in ways that would qualify as truthful.  Some of the questions though, she wouldn’t even be comfortable answering in a real relationship; private things, meant only for a couple, not for a stranger.

“Hit me again, dealer,” he said.

“This isn’t a game, Mulder.”

“I know that.  Preparation is vital.  Why else would we be doing this?”

“Why do I feel like our positions on this are in the reverse here?”

“Because you’re hoping the people we’d have to answer to on this would take us at blind faith and I want to provide unimpeachable testimony?”

“Exactly.”  She sighed and put the papers down on the table, but she kept scanning the questions.

“It’s just the skeptic in you winning out, but you can take back being the voice of reason any time.”  Mulder smiled and winked at her as he took a sip of his tea.

“When did you decide to enter into a romantic relationship?” she asked, looking up to meet his eyes.  “How would you answer that one?  Truthfully.”

Mulder ran his tongue across his top teeth and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.  “We would have to be in agreement about this, wouldn’t we?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then if I were answering, truthfully, I would say that I had come to the realization after your abduction that you meant more to me than just a coworker, that it took…losing you, to recognize that I felt there was more there and so…for me…I could say that though we weren’t romantically involved at that time, there was a shift in how I perceived our relationship and then I just waited for you to come to the same conclusion.  And that’s where you’ll have to chime in.”

It took a few moments for Scully to realize she was staring at Mulder with her mouth agape.  Her teeth clicked together as she snapped her jaw shut, but then almost immediately licked her lips.  Mulder came forward and put his hand over hers.

“Look,” he said.  “I wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea if I didn’t think there was a part of you that felt the same.  It isn’t lost on me that this is about more than the x-files, this is about us.  You and me.  Our fight for the truth.”

“But, can’t you see the irony that we’re fighting for the truth with a lie?”

“I told you, we don’t have to lie.  We can answer any of these questions and still stay within the bounds of the truth, as you put it.”  He squeezed her hand.  “You answer.  Truthfully.  Align what I just told you with what your answer would be.”

Ever since she was a child, Scully had been fairly reserved with her feelings.  Whether it was just part of her nature or a product of being a naval captain’s daughter, she couldn’t say, but it had been a lifelong struggle for her to speak from the heart.  Her gut clenched at the very notion of making herself so vulnerable.

“I…can’t,” she said.

There was disappointment written on Mulder’s face when he slid his hand from hers and sat back.  She dropped her eyes, ashamed that she was letting cowardice take over.  She could see the importance in being prepared, but she’d been caught off guard, not only by the questions he was bombarding her with, but also the intensity with which he’d taken her proposal.  It had been her idea yet it all felt so sudden and unexpected.

“Need I remind you that this was your idea,” Mulder said, as though reading her mind.

“I’m well aware of that.”

Mulder reached for the papers and then crumbled the packet in his hands and tossed it towards her trash can.  He missed, but didn’t get up to retrieve it.  A silence fell over the kitchen like a heavy blanket.  The room felt suddenly too warm and suffocating.  They both stared at their full plates, neither seeming to want to be the first to give in, not to speak or to eat or to deflate the tension that had ended their conversation.

It was Mulder that cracked first and the noise the chair made as it scraped across the floor as he made to stand up startled Scully.  “Wait,” she said.

“Just forget it, Scully.  If we ever have to pull the marriage card out, we’ll wing it.  Just cross our fingers and hope for the best.”

“Just give me some time to…to process all of this.”

“Sure.”  He shrugged and then put a hand on top of the box he’d brought over.  He pushed it over towards her a little and then flipped the top off.  “Maybe this is moot now, but I thought it might be prudent to have a few things here.  You know, just in case.”

Scully glanced inside.  She could see toiletries, socks, an unopened package of boxer shorts, rolled up neckties.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said.

“Mulder, wai-”

“Enjoy the sandwich.”   With that, he left.  

Having lost her appetite, Scully wrapped the sandwiches up and poured the iced tea down the drain.

Their conversation aggravated her all weekend.  She was so annoyed, with herself as much with Mulder, that she had a headache for two straight days, however when she got a call at 1am Monday morning to come down to the Vietnam Memorial to meet an informant regarding potential proof of a downed UFO, the scale was tipped in Mulder’s favor in her exasperation.  

Mulder seemed annoyed with her as well, not letting it show during the interview with his informant, but later that morning in the office.  To her surprise, he showed up late, in casual attire, hurling sarcastic barbs her way all while condescendingly demanding she handle a dead-end assignment so he could take a forced vacation that had sprung up out of the blue.  She was fairly certain the vacation was an excuse to avoid her.

She was not proud of how she conducted herself over the next few days.  She made rash decisions that, even if what she’d done hadn’t led to a near-death experience, she still would have regretted by the time she returned home.  She wished she could say that the choices she made weren’t about Mulder, but it was her frustration at him and with herself at the predicament she’d put them in that brought out a rebellious side of her that hadn’t seen the light of day since she was a teenager.

“All this because I wouldn’t get you a desk?” he asked, like he hadn’t angrily walked out of her apartment a week ago.

“Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she answered, refusing to give him any confirmation that he’d had a hand in the chain reaction of events that led her to being nearly incinerated by a man with a talking tattoo.  “This is my life.”

“Yes, but it’s…”

The rest of his sentence died on the vine.  Scully looked down at her lap as Mulder tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his desk.  After a few minutes of the most uncomfortable silence she’d ever endured, he got up and very quietly closed the door to the office before coming over to lean against the front of the desk with his arms folded across his chest.  He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor a few times and then uncrossed his arms and gripped the edge of the desk.

“It’s just that we’re supposed to be getting married in less than a month,” he said.  “So, on paper, if anyone were to do some digging, there’s a record of your one-night stand in a file.  The question then becomes, why would we get married if you were cheating on me only weeks prior?”

“It wasn’t a one-night stand.”

Mulder raised his brows.  “You plan on keeping correspondence with him?”

She did not appreciate the sarcasm.  Her lips pursed in annoyance and her jaw tightened.  “I don’t owe you any explanation,” she said, the bitterness evident in her voice.

Mulder sucked his top teeth and narrowed his eyes before he went back around and sat at his desk again.  He cleared his throat and tapped his pencil a few times again.  “So, the wedding’s off?”

“I…”  Scully paused and her anger deflated like slowly letting the air out of a balloon.  Her shoulders slumped slightly.  She did owe Mulder an explanation.  He was right.  They were weeks from being contractually bound to one and another and the timing would definitely come into question.  “I…didn’t sleep with him.”

“But, you intended to.”

“Yes, I…I did intend to.”

Mulder’s face fell into an expression that was new to her, but she read it as disappointment.  He opened the case file that he’d started to tell Scully about and just started reciting details of the assignment with no preamble.  The message was clear that it was the end of their discussion.  They left for Texas later that afternoon and he made no efforts to book them seats together on the plane like he normally would do.  

Three days later, with the case amounting to nothing, they headed home in a similar fashion.  Mulder didn’t even try to cajole her into accepting a ride home from him with his car in long term parking.  He left her at the taxi stand with barely more than a wave and a ‘see you tomorrow.’  When she got home she realized that the box of his things was still on her table where she hadn’t touched it.  She took the crumbled questionnaire that she’d placed inside after he’d left and smoothed it out on the table.  She should return the box, but the thought of all of the effort they’d already put into the plan being all for naught filled her with a melancholy that she couldn’t shake.  

Much like she’d done when she’d raced to Muldr’s apartment in the middle of the night only weeks ago, Scully did it all over again.  She knocked this time, lifting her knee to momentarily have a place to rest the banker’s box in her hands.  He opened the door almost immediately, but looked surprised to see her.  

“Oh,” he said.  “It’s you.”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“What if I was?”  He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb.

“May I come in?”

Mulder ran a hand across his lightly stubbled cheek, but didn’t step back to let her in.  He took a glance at the box in her hands and crossed his arms again.  His gray t-shirt was pulled taut across his chest.  “You could have just tossed all of that,” he said.

“It’s not what you think.”

It took him a few moments, but he finally stepped a few inches to the side to allow her to pass.  She had just enough room to squeeze by, but her shoulder still brushed his chest on the way in.  Feeling uninvited in his space, she stayed in the foyer, turning towards him and holding the box out.

“I never took you for a re-gifter,” he said.

“Take it.”

“What for?”

She sighed and briefly wrapped one arm around the front of the box to lift the lid and then tipped it in his direction.  He took a glance inside and then stepped closer, his hands covering hers at the handles.

“If anyone asks, your things are in the bottom right drawer of my dresser,” she said.  “Toiletries aside, of course.  I…you have the top shelf of the medicine cabinet.”

At least Mulder had the good sense to look a little sheepish when she slipped her hands free and left him holding the box.  She’d hastily thrown together an assortment of things that wouldn’t be missed.  The shampoo and conditioner were nearly empty, the lotion was a sample size she usually traveled with and could easily get another, the blouses she’d selected weren’t favorites, neither the bra or panties hidden beneath the black slacks and after some careful consideration, the half-empty box of tampons seemed like a wise touch.

“If you’ve changed your mind, I would understand,” she said.  “I haven’t.  Despite what you may think.”

Mulder shuffled his feet, looking down into the box.  “So I just take you back with open arms, is that the story we go with?  All is forgiven?”

“Is it the truth?”

He rubbed his lips together and shook his head slightly.  The long pause that followed made her nervous.  A heat spread from her chest to her cheeks, up to the tips of her ears.  Much to her embarrassment, her nose began to sting and her eyes watered.  Mulder glanced up at her as she angrily swiped at her eyes and opened his mouth to finally respond, but there was a knock on the door.

So he was expecting someone.  Scully took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes as Mulder put the box back into her hands.  She didn’t want to know who was on the other side of the door, especially if it was another woman.  It had never crossed her mind before, Mulder with someone else, but the thought suddenly made her queasy.  And then she wondered if he too had felt sick when he learned what she’d been up to in Philadelphia.

“Yeah, thanks,” she heard Mulder say.  “Keep the change.”

Scully opened her eyes as the door closed and saw Mulder standing with a pizza box.  “You hungry?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered.

They stood across from each other in awkward silence for a few moments and then he glanced at the box in her hands.  She looked down at it as well and then put it on his table and stepped back.

“The top left drawer is yours,” he said, turning away to retreat into his living room with the pizza.

“Wait.”

Mulder paused in the archway between the foyer and living room and turned around.  Scully pulled the questionnaire from her pocket and unfolded it slowly.  She scanned the page and then her eyes bounced from the paper to Mulder and back and she took a moment to clear her throat.

“You don’t tend to eat breakfast on a daily basis,” she said, speaking down to the page.  “You might grab a piece of toast with jelly or maybe a bear claw from the truck outside of work.”

“What kind of jelly?”

“Strawberry.  You like your coffee black, one sugar.”  She hesitated a beat and looked up at him.  “There’s not much else I know.  I don’t know what your morning or bedtime routines are, I don’t know if you have a favorite restaurant, I don’t know wh-”

“Scully.”  Mulder shifted the pizza box to lean against his hip and took the paper from her hands.  “You know my birthday.  You know my family history.  You know I’m allergic to codeine.  You know my blood type.  If you really think about it, I think you also know my bedtime routine.”

“Falling asleep in front of the TV is hardly a bedtime routine.”

“Sure it is, and you disapprove.”

“I’ve told you, studies have shown it decreas-”

“See.  It can be one of those things that drives you crazy and we argue about it, but it helps my insomnia so you try to let it go.  We’ll go over all of this.  We’ll have an answer for everything on this list.”

“Honest answers.”

“Right.”

“Then I should tell you that, if asked, when did we enter a romantic relationship, I would say that I felt like something was different after my abduction, that you…looked at me differently, but I wasn’t sure what it meant.  And then…on that bridge when you…allowed the woman you thought was your sister to trade herself for me, I…I knew there was something deeper than friendship because...because you once told me nothing else mattered.”

Mulder pulled his bottom lip under his top teeth and nodded softly.  He put one arm around her, tentatively at first, but when she turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest, he put the pizza box on the table and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“It really wasn’t about you,” she said.  “What happened in Philadelphia, it was about me.”

She felt him inhale sharply, felt his chest expand against her cheek and then slowly deflate before his arms fell away and she almost shivered at the loss of his body heat.  Her nose started to sting and her eyes watered and she turned away from him, not wanting him to see her cry.

“Can I see it?” he asked, catching the crook of her arm and giving her elbow a tiny squeeze.

“See what?” she whispered.

“The tattoo.”

She started to shake her head, to pull her arm free and step away from him, but forced herself to stop and consider his request.  “Alright,” she said.

He let her go and with her back to him, she shrugged out of her overcoat and folded it over the chair in front of her.  She leaned forward a little and put one hand on the table, reaching back with her free hand to lift her sweater up and over her hip.  She felt him kneel down behind her and his hand moved over hers, lifting her sweater just a bit higher.

Gooseflesh rippled up her arms as he lightly traced the outline of the tattoo with one finger.  She held her breath and closed her eyes and for a moment it was almost like she could feel the flame of a candle hovering near her hip.  Mosquito bites. I got eaten up alive myself out there.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, his breath drifting over the spot at her back he’d just touched.

“Thank you,” she murmured, relaxing as she felt him move back and then stand up again.

“Ouroboros is one of the oldest symbols of alchemy.  Representing the circular process of the alchemist’s work.  An infinite loop.” 

“Yes, I know.”  She smoothed her sweater back into place and picked up her coat to put it back on and face him again.

“Scully, you don’t feel like…I mean, I know that…”

“It was just impulse,” she said, wanting to stop the train of thought he was moving down before he went too far.  “I just liked the look of it.” 

He moved his hand up like he wanted to touch her face and she couldn’t help but wince at the thought of contact with the bruise on her cheek.  He quickly pulled his hand away and his eyes darted to the abrasion on her chin and then back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

It was Mulder’s turn to wince and he reached up to squeeze both of her shoulders lightly.  “If you say so.”  He started to step away, but then leaned down and quickly kissed the corner of her mouth.  “Now if they ask what happened after Philadelphia we can say we kissed and made up.”

There was a sadness in his voice and in his eyes, even though he gave her the smile that she couldn’t.  He turned and picked up both of the boxes, leaving her to show herself out.  She closed the door softly behind her.

The rest of the week in the office was still awkward, but to a lesser degree.  They were both more subdued than usual, Mulder especially.  It was just as well.  The quiet and the stillness helped keep her head from aching too badly as she recovered from her injuries.

A new case in Pittsburgh brought them back to normal.  With their focus on locating the headless corpse of one Leonard Betts, a man Mulder believed was alive and well and eating cancer, Scully didn’t have time to dwell on the state of their relationship.  Even when they disagreed, they were always in sync when it came to the work.

Unfortunately, she left Pittsburgh shaken.  She was sure that Leonard Betts had implied she was sick in order to shock her, disarm her, and distract her in order to have the upper hand when she had confronted him.  She was also not confident he was wrong.  There had been some things that had been concerning her lately.  Her headaches, her impulse control being almost non-existent, her mood swings, the general feeling of her body being foreign to her.  When she woke in the middle of the night upon their return from the case with a bloody nose, she decided she might as well make an appointment for some tests.  Her doctor’s office booked her for February 10th, three days after the wedding date.

Mulder made sure they did not look into any cases that would take them out of town the week of the wedding, mainly because they had an appointment on Wednesday at his attorney’s office to sign the pre-nup.  As the big day loomed closer, Scully began to feel more and more anxious about it.  She still hadn’t told her mother.  She also hadn’t figured out what she was going to wear.  She was having sporadic nosebleeds now, mostly at night or very early in the morning.  She told herself it was just the stress of the week and she’d know more the following Monday anyway.

The appointment at Mulder’s attorney’s office to sign the pre-nup was not as intimidating as Scully had thought it would be.  They had both taken the afternoon off and left work together with Mulder following her to her apartment first and then driving them over to a tiny, private firm in Alexandria.  They reviewed and signed what was put in front of them, were given a copy for themselves, and that was that, no questions asked.  She had worn the engagement ring at Mulder’s suggestion and the matronly legal assistant that notarized the documents for them took some time to admire it.

“It’s a family heirloom,” Mulder told her, when she asked about the setting.

“You’re one lucky lady,” she said to Scully.

“I’m the lucky one,” he answered, pulling Scully close with a hand on her hip and smiling broadly.

Scully didn’t know how Mulder could make such small, casual touches and gestures feel so easy and natural.  She wondered if maybe that was the reason that people assumed they were together and she suddenly realized that it was the simple things that spoke volumes.  There was a level of comfort when he was near or when he put a hand to the small of her back when they walked together that she couldn’t deny.

With a small smile of her own, Scully tilted her head back to look up at Mulder and reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw.  He caught her hand and pulled her knuckles to his mouth for a brief kiss before twining his fingers with hers and holding their hands to his chest.

Mulder was still holding Scully’s hand when they left the lawyer’s office and he gave it a small tug to bring her to a standstill when they got to the parking garage.  “I was thinking,” he said.  “We need a first date.”

“Well, we’ve been out together hundreds of times, is there any-”

“No, something new,” he interrupted.  “Something where we’re both going into it knowing it’s a date.  It’ll make it more honest.”

“Right.”

“You have time now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah.  Why not?”

Scully looked at her watch.  “It’s barely three o’clock.  Too early for dinner and we’ve already had lunch.”

“I’ve got the perfect spot.  You trust me?”

“To plan a date?  No, somehow I think we’d end up staking out a haunted house.”

Mulder chuckled.  “That’s more of a fifth or sixth date activity.  Come on, Scully, we’ve only got one more day left before we become an old, boring married couple.”

That pulled a smile out of her even as she rolled her eyes at him.  “Alright, Mulder, but it better be good or else I might be forced to reconsider this whole arrangement.”

“You’ll love it.”

Less than twenty minutes later, their destination was reached.  Scully stood in the doorway of the arcade Mulder had just steered her into and folded her arms across her chest, one brow raised incredulously.

“You’re taking me to an arcade on our first date?” she asked over the low cacophony of video game theme music and clanging bells.  “You know we’re not in 7th grade, right?”

“I’m hoping the story goes, you were a bit surprised by the choice at first, but couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun by the time we left.”  He held a five dollar bill up and waved it in front of her face for a few moments.  “I’ll even let you be in charge of the quarters.”

“In that case.”  She snatched the money from Mulder’s hand and he trailed behind her as she walked over to the bill exchange.  The machine spit out a handful of quarters which she pocketed and then turned to consider the games.

The arcade was fairly empty of people.  There was a lone worker at a ticket exchange counter and a couple of college-aged boys battling at Street Fighter.  It was logical to assume with kids still in school for the day, they’d pretty much have the run of the place for at least the next hour.

“That one,” Scully said, pointing to a machine with two, side-by-side screens and two holsters with red and blue plastic guns.

“I should’ve known,” he said.

She’d chosen a target practice style video game where advancing each round was based on accuracy and speed.  The machine came to life as soon as she fed it the appropriate amount of quarters and a cartoon character that looked like a rip off of Yosemite Sam explained the rules of the game.

“Cheers,” Mulder said, holding his gun out towards her.  She tapped the barrel of her gun to his and then took a firm stance as a countdown began on the screen.

Not only did Scully win, she beat the high score on the game by nearly ten thousand points.  The Yosemite Sam look-alike congratulated her on her success and instructed her to enter her initials into the top ten list by firing at the letters of the alphabet that appeared across both screens.

“What’s next?” Mulder asked, bobbing his head towards a row of racing games.  “You want to kick my ass at defensive driving as well?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” she said, smiling broadly.

She did end up winning the racing game as well, but just barely, and nowhere near the top ten range.  Mulder smoked her in the free-throw basketball game, which was to be expected, and that was the start of a ticket collection that continued with a few rounds of skeeball and whack-a-mole.  They played a very intense round of air hockey that resulted in a draw as time ran out and both had successfully blocked the puck from making any goals.

“This looks fun,” Mulder said, pointing out a game with an elevated platform and neon arrows on the floor.  

“Dance Dance Revolution?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t be a date without dancing, right?”

Reluctantly, Scully inserted the quarters into the machine and got up onto the platform.  She looked down at the four arrows and tapped her toe on the left side for a moment.  Mulder was bouncing from foot to foot like he was warming up for a run.  A video started playing on the screen and an unfamiliar song started blasting from the speakers in front of them.

Mulder had no trouble keeping up with the instructions, quickly moving his feet in time with the arrows that scrolled up the screen.  Scully, on the other hand, could barely land a correct step.  It flustered her at first, but her supreme lack of coordination and Mulder’s erratic Lord of the Dance footwork had her laughing so hard she could barely breathe.  She grabbed onto a bar that was behind her for support.

“Oh my god,” she said, bent over and wheezing with laughter as she compared her miserable score to Mulder’s spectacular clearance of the level.  “Mulder, how in the world do you know how to do that?”

“I’m a man of many talents, Scully,” he answered with a wide grin, obviously proud of himself.  “I thought you knew that by now.”

“I can’t take it,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Mulder stepped off the platform and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her close as she was still trying to catch her breath.  Occasional chuckles bubbled up from deep in her gut, making her ribs sore.  She hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.

“Let’s say we cash in these tickets and head next door to the pizza joint?”

“Yes, good idea.”

Their combined ticket total allowed for Mulder to get a neon purple monster finger puppet and for Scully to get a candy necklace and a happy face pencil eraser.  They sat side-by-side in a four-person booth at the pizza parlor with their slices of pizza and diet Cokes.  It was dusk by the time they left and Mulder went to the passenger side of the car first to unlock the door for Scully.  He put his hand on the frame though and leaned against it so she couldn’t open it.

“Tell us, Miss Scully,” he said, speaking in an almost Kermit the Frog-type voice while bobbing the monster finger puppet at her on his index finger.  “What did you and Agent Mulder do on your first date?”

“Dinner and dancing,” she answered, smiling somewhat coyly at him.

“Sounds so conventional.”  His finger curled and the monster puppet sagged sadly as though disappointed.

“Dinner was pizza.  Dancing was a game in the arcade we went to.  I will admit I was a bit skeptical, at first, but it was one of the best dates I ever had.”

“Oh really?”  He straightened his finger and the puppet’s arms jiggled frantically over its head.  

“Yes, really.”  She nodded.  It was the truth, not just adjacent to it.

“Out of all the-”  Whatever he was going to ask, Scully cut him off by reaching up and clamping down on the mouth of the finger puppet and Mulder pressed his lips together as well.

“Let’s just leave it at that,” she said.

Mulder nodded and they both lowered their hands.  He slipped the finger puppet off and put it in his pocket.  He hesitated to move away from the door. 

“Did I kiss you goodnight?” he asked.

She raised her brow in response and he gave her an innocent shrug.  There was a hopeful twinkle in his eye where she expected a challenge.  She knew it was just a roundabout way of asking permission this time around, which she appreciated, but it had certainly been easier being taken by surprise.  She supposed though, if they had been on a real date, she would expect him to kiss her, especially when they’d had such a nice time.

“It was a date,” she finally answered.  “After all.  So…”

Mulder grinned and stepped up toe to toe with her.  He put a hand to her neck, threading his fingers through her hair to gently cup the back of her head.  “I had a really nice time,” he said, his voice so low and gravelly that her stomach flipped and fluttered.

“So did I,” she answered, eyes dropping to his mouth in anticipation.  She licked her lips and then swallowed.

His kiss was light as air, but it still made her whimper softly, embarrassingly.  She hoped he didn’t hear it, but he must have because she felt him smile against her mouth and then he dropped his head and she almost gasped at the heat of his breath on her neck.  Her stomach flipped and dropped and a pulse of desire blossomed between her thighs like the opening of a flower.  It’s how she wanted to feel in Philadelphia, but couldn’t.  

With his index finger, Mulder pulled lightly on the elastic of the candy necklace she had bought with the arcade tickets and his lips grazed her collarbone as he bit one of the candies off and then pulled away.  Her body swayed towards him and for a moment she felt quite lightheaded and faint.

The dopey grin on Mulder’s face as he crunched on his candy faded quickly and Scully opened her mouth only to feel the hot slide of blood roll from her nose and over her lip.  She bent her head forward and cupped her hand under her chin as he sprinted back to the pizza parlor and then returned with a fistful of napkins.  He put his arm around her shoulders as she held the napkins to her nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she answered, her voice muffled under the bunched up napkins she held to her face.  Her heart was pounding though, which didn’t do much to staunch the flow of blood from her nose.  “It’ll stop in a minute.”

“Has this happened before?”

She glanced up at him, but almost immediately lowered her eyes as she pinched her nose shut with the napkins between her fingers.  “A few times,” she answered.  “I have a doctor’s appointment on Monday.”

“You do?”

“It’s nothing.”  She took her hand away to better assess the situation and dabbed at her upper lip a few times.  After she pinched her nose shut with a clean napkin again and it came away with only a dab of blood she nodded at him.  “See, it’s already stopped.”

“But-”

“I think we should omit the nosebleed from the first date story.  What do you think?”

“It is a little unconventional,” he answered, but his voice did not hold the usual mischievous tone he took when joking with her.  He was obviously still concerned.

“It’s fine,” she assured him, balling up the napkins and walking away from him to throw them away in a trash can just outside the doors of the pizza parlor.  “I’m fine.  We should get going, it’s cold out.”

“Yeah.”  He opened the door and waited for her to come back, brushing his hand down her back as she slipped into the passenger seat.  

They didn’t speak on the drive to her apartment.  The good mood of the date had been effectively spoiled and she tried not to sigh in her frustration.  She told herself it didn’t matter because it wasn’t a real date anyway, but they had had a nice time and it was a shame that it had to be ruined.  She told herself it was just the stress and the pressure and mounting anxiety of the wedding and that would all ease up in two days.  She could breathe again once they got back to normal.

Mulder wished her a good night when they got to her apartment and as usual, waited until she was inside her building to drive away.  The first thing she did upon arriving home was start a hot bath and then she flopped down on her bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling while waiting for the tub to fill up.  She lifted her right hip slightly to slide her hand into her pocket and pulled out the ring she’d worn that afternoon.  She slid it on and off her finger several times before letting it rest down by her knuckle and she held her hand out to admire it.  It winked at her as she tilted her hand back and forth, catching the lamplight.  

“This is crazy,” she whispered to herself and then she pulled the ring off and stowed it back in its little pouch and in her jewelry box.  Soon enough, it would be locked in a safety deposit box and she wouldn’t have to think of it again.

In the bathroom, she studied her reflection as she undressed and as she pulled at the candy necklace to remove it, she swore she could feel Mulder’s breath on her neck all over again and she flushed pink from head to toe.  

“Don’t even think about it,” she told herself.

The bath didn’t help much to quiet her mind or settle the anxieties that had started to build.  She slept fitfully and was slow getting into work the next morning.  Mulder was uncharacteristically chipper, but also had a strong calming presence on her.  There was a bagel and a coffee waiting for her at her table.

“Trying to butter me up for something?” she asked, unwrapping the poppyseed bagel with one brow raised at him.

“No butter,” he replied, leaning back in his chair and tapping a pencil to his mouth as he smiled at her.  “Just cream cheese.”

She snorted lightly and took a slow bite of her breakfast as she booted up her computer.  

“I was thinking Mother’s for lunch today,” Mulder said.

Scully paused and took a moment to swallow her bite of bagel and wipe her mouth.  She raised a brow at him suspiciously.  Mother’s Kitchen was a small cafe that served homemade soups and sandwiches.  It was a short walk from the Hoover and just unobtrusive enough to fly under the radar of tourists.  She loved it, and she knew Mulder did too, but too often he preferred to grab a quick bite from the cafeteria upstairs or, heaven forbid, a hot dog from one of the street vendors on the corner.

“You want to go out?” she asked.

“Well, it is your turn to buy, don’t really want to pass that up.”  He smiled at her and then glanced around at the four corners of their office.  “And I figure the atmosphere is better for conversation than the upstairs cafeteria.”

It may have been Mulder’s paranoia rubbing off on her, but the implication in his glance was clear to her.  The walls have ears and they still had things to talk about before tomorrow.  It was best they did that away from work.  She bobbed her head in agreement and he acknowledged it with a slight nod.

They worked quietly throughout the morning after that.  Scully was so focused on a medical article she was taking notes on that she jumped when she felt Mulder’s hand on her shoulder and was even more surprised to find out it was already past noon.  She shut her computer down and shrugged into her overcoat that Mulder held out for her.  

Mother’s was as busy as Scully had ever seen it get, which wasn’t very busy at all.  About half the tables were taken and coffee could be heard percolating over the low murmur of conversation.  She and Mulder were seated at a small square table by the front window and paper menus were placed in front of them, not that they were needed.  Scully already knew she’d be having the chicken noodle soup and she knew Mulder would be getting the pastrami sandwich.  They ordered as soon as the waitress stopped by with glasses of water and a basket of fresh, hot biscuits for the table.

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” Mulder said.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Scully answered, bringing her glass of water to her lips to take a long drink.

“Haven’t changed your mind?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Me neither.”

“I didn’t think you had.”

“Well, at least that’s settled.”  He paused and rubbed at his chin for a few moments as he pulled his bottom lip under his top teeth.  “I uh…there is one thing I should…ask you.”

She frowned and her brows came together pensively.  “Something we haven’t already talked about?”

“There’s a hotel by the city hall in Falls Church.  A nice one, not some one star dive that fits the bureau’s expense budget.  I booked the honeymoon suite for the weekend.”

“A honeymoon suite?”

“Well, normal king suite, but I bought the honeymoon package.  There’s no champagne flute hot tub, but if that’s a dealbreaker I can get the number for a place in the Poconos.”

“God, no.”  She shook her head a little too profusely.

“I’ve been thinking that…well, maybe we should sleep together.”

Scully jerked her head towards him in surprise, her brows shooting up and her mouth falling open.  Her first thought was that she was glad he didn’t happen to drop this bombshell on her while she was taking a sip of water because she might have choked.  He was far too calm to have just said what she knew she heard him say.

“Hear me out,” he continued, holding his hands up defensively.

“What is there to hear out here?”

“I’m sure you noticed, but one of the questions on that paper refers to whether or not the marriage has been consummated.”

“Which is invasive and ridiculous and if that’s the kind of question they’re going to ask, my answer would be none of your goddamn business.”

“Okay, but what if you could also truthfully throw in an ‘of course I’ve slept with my husband’ into the mix after your verbal tongue-lashing?”

“Mulder…”

“I’m only suggesting we sleep together, Scully.  Literally, sleep together.  One king sized bed, you on the left and me on the right.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Seriously serious.  Check in is at two and check out is at 11 on Sunday.”

“What would we even do for an entire weekend?”

“Room service?  Study up on our marriage questions?  I think they’ve got HBO.”

Scully put a hand over her face for a few moments and rubbed at the dull headache that had basically taken up permanent residence behind her eyes.  Would there be value in staging a honeymoon weekend in the long run or would they just be taking their farce too far?  She just didn’t know.

“I need to think about it,” she finally said.

“I would say take your time, but we’re kind of eloping in less than 24 hours, so…”  He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a brochure which he handed to her from across the table.  “Here, take a look.”

She took the brochure rather reluctantly.  The photo on the front showed a nice, new-looking hotel at dusk.  It wasn’t large by any standard, no more than five or six stories, but architecturally sleek and modern.

“How’d you find this place?” she asked.

“The phone book, but then I went by and checked it out.  I have until 3pm today to cancel.  I mean, I suppose I could show up alone, but…that might stand out.”

“Yes, I guess it might.”

“We get connecting rooms all the time, it would be…maybe not just like that, but nearly.”

She looked down at the table for a few moments and ran her thumb along the outside of her water glass.  “I’m just…I guess I’m just wondering where the line is.”

“The line between us?”

“No, the line between reality and illusion.  What are you going to consider to be enough ammunition in the end?”

“It’s not about what I think, but you’ve seen for yourself the elaborate ways in which they try to spin false narratives to throw us off, to send us on wild goose chases.  I want us to be prepared to give as good as we get, in the long run.”

Scully sighed and Mulder came forward and put his hand over hers.  He gave it a squeeze and then tilted his head low and to the side until she met his eyes.

“I wouldn’t do this with anyone else,” he said, seriously.  “Would you?”

She shook her head, but said nothing.  He smiled softly and sat back, but kept his hand over hers.  She stared contemplatively at the red and white checkerboard pattern of the tablecloth knowing that she’d been foolish to think that this proposal would have ever been so simple.

“Appearances can be everything,” he stated, pulling his hand away as the waitress suddenly returned with their food.

Scully couldn’t disagree with that.  She nodded down at the steam rising from her soup and breathed it in.  “Okay,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Not really doing anything else this weekend.  Getting married was kind of my whole agenda, so…”

Mulder chuckled lightly and grinned at her.  There was no further discussion of the wedding or anything related to it for the rest of the meal, but as they waited for the check to come, conversation picked up again.

“So, what’s the game plan for tomorrow?” he asked.

“I thought maybe I’d come and pick you up,” she answered.  “You’re on the way.”

“You’ll bring the license and the rings?”

“Yes.”

“Do we need to…coordinate outfits or anything?”

“No, I don’t think that matters very much.”

“What about the whole something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue thing?”

She snorted lightly and shook her head.  “I think we’re already balking at tradition by eloping.”

“Yeah, maybe, but…you know…”

“Well the ring is old and technically borrowed.”

“So just something new and blue.”

“It really doesn’t matter.”  Scully turned her eyes away from Mulder to the approaching waitress and she leaned over to grab her wallet from her purse.

The temperature had dropped and a frigid breeze rattled what little leaves were left on the trees that late in the season.  It had been a sunny morning, but the sky had turned gloomy and gray during lunch.  They walked quickly back to work to get in from the cold.  She hoped snow wasn’t about to drop.  Traffic would be a nightmare if it did.

“Why don’t you just cut out early and start your long weekend now?” Mulder asked, as soon as they’d gotten back to the basement and before she’d even taken off your coat.

“I still have a few reports I want to file.”

“You can do that from home.  It looks like the weather’s turning, go ahead and get out of here.”

Scully hesitated, holding the lapels of her coat indecisively.  Getting home early would give her a bit more time to prepare for tomorrow, and now the unexpected weekend away.  She did want to tie up a few loose ends, but she could do that from home and didn’t need to be in the office to accomplish it.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Mulder smiled and squeezed Scully’s arm lightly as he passed her on the way to his desk.  “I’ll survive a few hours without you.  Enjoy your day off.”

“Yeah, uh…you too.”

Scully packed up her satchel and left.  A half hour later she was home and though it still seemed to be threatening snow, no flakes had fallen.  She finished up what she’d been working on before lunch and then began contemplating the contents of her wardrobe to finally decide on what she was going to wear tomorrow.  Up until now she hadn’t given it much consideration, but it suddenly felt a lot more important now that the clock was running down.

Never one to be into or up on current fashions, Scully dressed for practicality and professionalism above all.  Her closet consisted mostly of pantsuits and a handful of dresses for church.  She’d assumed up until this point that she would just select a skirt or dress of a neutral palette, but she realized upon further contemplation that everything she currently owned was more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding.  There was one blouse, deep in the recesses of her closet and still wrapped in the plastic dry cleaning bag from the last time she wore it, which if she recalled correctly, was on the last date she went on.  It was white lace, which felt apropos, but the black slacks which she previously paired the top with did not feel right.

She had no choice, really.  It was either the white lace top or a black dress, and she wasn’t in mourning.  She pulled the blouse from the closet and selected the pants to pair it with and tried not to give it any more thought.  She still needed to make dinner and pack for the unexpected weekend away.

Packing should have been a breeze, but it was different packing for a leisure stay than work.  She checked the brochure Mulder had given her and discovered the hotel had both a pool and a gym, which meant she could take a swim and get in a couple workouts as well.  Aside from that, she honestly did not know how she was going to fill the time staying a full weekend in a hotel room with Mulder.  If he brought along old casefiles, so help her, she would leave him to spend their honeymoon alone and let him find his own way home.

When she finally felt like she was prepared enough to head to bed, she was grateful that Mulder had suggested she take off early.  It wasn’t late, but it could have been, and the extra time made her feel less anxious and stressed than she had been feeling.  Without thinking about it, she dialed Mulder’s phone as she got into bed and he answered on the fourth ring, sounding out of breath.

“Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me.”

“Hey, Scully.  I just got in, hang on.”  There was a muffled sound of shifting and scraping and then Mulder was back, sounding a little less out of breath.

“Just got in?  Where were you?”

“Stayed late at the office.  Had a couple errands.  Picked up Chinese on the way home.  What’s up?”

“Why’d you stay late?”

“Series of drownings in Nevada.  Local PD thinks it’s mob related, but residents are convinced it’s the Pyramid Lake mermaid.”

“A mermaid…in Nevada?”

“Don’t worry, it’s probably not her this time.”

“Mulder, it sounds like…”  Scully nearly laughed and she shook her head a little, putting her hand over her face.  

“Sounds like what?”

“It sounds like you believe in this Nevada Lake Mermaid in the first place.”

“I should say that technically her full name is the Spiteful Mermaid of Pyramid Lake, but she’s part of an ancient legend dating back to the Paiute that inhabited the area once upon a time.  Still inhabit the area, actually.”

“Mulder…there’s no such thing as mermaids.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, for now.  Ordinarily, I’d be on a cross-country flight by now, but in this instance, I think the local PD is right.  It’s got mob fingerprints all over it.”

Scully puffed her cheeks and blew out a short breath of both amusement and relief.

“Besides,” Mulder added.  “I have plans this weekend.”

“Well then, I guess I better let you go.”

“Sleep tight.  I’ll…see you when I see you?”

“Yes, you will.”

“Night, Scully.”

“Good night.”

Scully hung up the phone with a smile and then slid down under her comforter to go to sleep.  With the wedding looming in a little more than twelve hours, she assumed she might toss and turn the whole night, but surprisingly, she fell asleep rather quickly and was awakened by her alarm the next morning.

She didn’t know how she expected to feel that morning, but her lack of nerves did surprise her.  While she wasn’t quite calm, she only felt a vague sense of anticipation.  Similarly, it was how she felt on the morning she was called into Section Chief Blevins’ office and assigned to the x-files.  She’d known something was going to be different after that day, she just didn’t know what.

She was up early enough to shower and dress with no need for urgency.  She had several hours before she needed to pick up Mulder and the lack of a rush definitely aided in keeping any anxiety that might creep in at bay.  She ate a light breakfast, did her make-up, and even had time to curl her hair a bit more than she normally would.  When the time came, she poured the rest of her coffee into a travel mug and grabbed her overnight bag and headed out.

The streets were wet, but no snow was on the ground, so yesterday’s ominous clouds may have just released a bit of rain overnight.  The sky was blue and the sun was shining when she left.  As she got closer to Mulder’s apartment, she called his cell to let him know she was only minutes away and by the time she arrived, he was waiting at the curb.  She double-parked and popped the trunk so he could stow his duffel bag and then he got in the passenger side.  

“You have the rings?” he asked.

“In the glove box, along with the license,” she answered.

He flashed her a smile as he opened the glove box.  “Good morning, by the way.”  

She gave him a brief once-over as he touched the velvet pouch and the manila envelope.  His hair looked freshly cut and his cheeks still looked damp with aftershave.  He had on a dark suit and tie and a crisp white shirt.  While not a tux, it looked just a step more formal above the business suits he wore on a day to day basis.

“Good morning,” she finally murmured.  “You look…good.”

“Oh?”  The smile on his face grew a bit wider and he chuckled.  “This old thing?”

“I mean…you look…”

“Appropriately attired?”

“Yes.”

He smoothed his hand down the length of his tie as though proud of himself and then turned his grin on her.  “You also look appropriately attired.  And very, very good.”

Her cheeks burned with the compliment and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand as she put the car back into gear.  They were still on track to be early to city hall, but she didn’t want any unforeseen delays to get in the way.  That’s what she told herself as to why she was in the sudden rush, at least.

There were no delays to Falls Church.  They arrived twenty minutes ahead of the appointment and Scully parked at the side of the building.  She shut the engine off and then looked at her watch as though she hadn’t just checked the clock on the dashboard before turning the car off.

“Should we go in now, or wait here?” she asked.

“Let’s go in.”

She nodded and they both got out of the car.  It was chillier in Falls Church than it was in DC and she pulled her overcoat closed.  Mulder grabbed the rings and the license and then met her at the front of the car and took her hand.  They walked to the front of the stately brick building and he held the door open for her to enter into the lobby.  They checked in at an information desk and were told to wait down a hall to the right in front of room 106.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” Mulder said, tugging on her hand as they stopped in front of the door.  He let go of her and slipped his hand into his right pocket.  “Something new and blue.”

“Mulder, I told you it-”  She stopped and suppressed a laugh, brows raised as he pulled his hand free and was wearing a bright blue finger puppet monster on his thumb that was nearly identical to the one he’d traded his tickets for at the arcade.  The purple one was on his fourth finger.

“His and hers.”

“I am not wearing that.”

“You don’t have to wear it, just put it in your pocket.  For good luck.”  He bent his thumb towards her and waited.  Finally, she took it from him and slipped it in her pocket and he grinned triumphantly.

While they waited, Scully removed her overcoat and Mulder did the same.  Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she wished she’d thought to bring a compact with her so she could check her face in the mirror.  She checked her pocket repeatedly for the pouch with the rings, forgetting each time that Mulder had it in his possession.  She was about to check her watch for what must have been the one hundredth time when a small, stout woman with a poof of slate-gray hair like cotton candy started coming towards them.

“Would you be my 11 o’clock?” she asked, her smile so broad it seemed to take up most of her face.

“Fox Mulder,” Mulder answered, holding his hand out in greeting.  “And my lovely bride to be, Dana Scully.”

“Rosemary Lee.”

The older woman shook both their hands and then brandished a set of keys which she used to open room 106.  It was a small meeting room with four rows of bench seating and a slightly raised podium at the front.  The view of the outside from the windows was blocked by overgrown bushes, despite being mostly bare this late in the winter.

“Well, first thing’s first,” Rosemary said.  “Let me have a look at your license and identification and then it looks like I’ll need to bring my secretary in as a witness, unless you have someone arriving late.”

“No, just us.”  Mulder handed the envelope with the license over to the celebrent.  Both he and Scully showed her their IDs and she gave a brief nod.

“Everything looks in order.  I’ll call Meg in and we’ll get started.”

Rosemary used a phone on the wall next to the door to call her secretary and they chatted politely while they waited for her to arrive.  They learned that the celebrant was also an ordained minister and a former law clerk.  She had two more marriages to officiate that day and eight the following Friday.

“Valentine’s Day,” she said with a wink.  “My biggest day of the year.”

The woman Rosemary indicated was Meg arrived and introduced herself before she took a seat in the first row of benches, obviously familiar with the drill.  Mulder took Scully’s coat and put both of them in the second row and then he handed a disposable camera to Meg and asked if she could just snap a few photos to which she seemed to anticipate.

“Now,” Rosemary said, moving to the front of the podium.  “You two, you can stand here in front of me.  Do we have any special vows or personal words we want to add into the ceremony today?”

Mulder and Scully stood facing each other in front of Rosemary and Mulder took both her hands.  He looked to her for guidance to answer the question posed to them and gave a tentative shake of his head.  She shook hers as well and then turned to Rosemary.  “No,” she said.

“We’re pretty minimalist,” Mulder added, one side of his mouth quirking up in jest.

“Short and to the point kind of folks?”

“Yes,” Scully answered.

“Do we prefer to use man and wife, husband and wife, bride and groom, or something of your own choosing?”

“What about…just…partners?” Mulder asked.

Scully nodded in agreement.

“Will we be exchanging rings today?”

“Yeah, yes.”  Mulder went to reach into his pocket, but Rosemary waved her hand to stop him.

“I’ll let you know when we’re ready for them.  Alright, this will be short, I promise, but you will have to indulge me in a few words as we start.”

Behind her, Scully could hear the click of the camera and the wheel advancing to the next photo.  Her eyes darted towards her shoulder self-consciously, but Mulder squeezed her hands and pulled her gaze back to his.

“We’re here today to witness the union of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully in marriage.  Today marks the start of a new journey for you both, one which you are promising to endure together, through good times and bad.  The promises you are making today should not be taken lightly, but with the bold assertion that you intend to commit yourselves to each other from this day forward.

“Though the future is unknown, it is guaranteed to be filled with adventure and challenge.  Only through trust and love and unwavering support of each other will you withstand the ups and downs.  It is my honor to join the two of you in marriage today and I wish you much success in this endeavor.”

Scully nervously licked the side of her mouth and had to use every ounce of her willpower not to look away from Mulder as the older woman spoke.  She could see a sheen of tears in his eyes which he blinked away and he gazed at her so seriously it was difficult to keep that eye contact.  Her pulse quickened and her breathing grew a bit shallow, but still she did not turn from him.  He held her hands tightly and she could feel his palms growing damp with sweat.

“Do you, Fox Mulder, enter into this union freely and willingly and promise to love and respect your partner now and this day forward?”

Mulder swallowed first and then nodded.  “I do,” he said.

“And do you, Dana Scully, enter into this union freely and willingly and promise to love and respect your partner now and this day forward?”

Scully took one deep breath and then another before she nodded as well and glanced first to Rosemary and then back to Mulder.  “I do,” she said.

“You may take out the rings now.  The wedding ring, a circle with no end, represents an everlasting bond and is a symbol of your love and commitment to each other.  Fox, I will ask you to place the ring on Dana’s finger and repeat after me.”

Mulder shook the rings from the pouch into his hand and Scully passed him her left hand so he could slip the ring onto her finger.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion,” Rosemary said.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion,” Mulder repeated.

“And of my commitment to you and to our partnership.”

“And of my commitment to you and to our partnership.”

Scully almost gasped at the choice of phrase.  It defined this marriage in a nutshell and somehow felt more symbolic and appropriate than the marriage itself.  It didn’t come to her as an epiphany, she’d already realized that they would be undertaking this pledge in the name of their work, but to hear it spoken out loud in the name of their partnership, it felt deeper than any marriage.

Rosemary put Scully through the same vows, having her put the ring on Mulder’s finger and repeat after her.  She did so almost breathlessly, the enormity of the moment settling in her chest and stealing the oxygen from her.

“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the state of Virginia, I pronounce you as partners in life.  Please, celebrate with a kiss and seal this partnership.”

Mulder let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to Scully.  She rested her hands on his hips under the lapels of his suit jacket as he cupped her cheeks with both hands and leaned down to her.  He tipped her face just slightly as he tilted his own and their mouths met softly.  The seconds ticked by, but they stayed pressed together until finally Mulder puckered his lips and broke free, but not without caressing her cheek with his thumb and brushing his nose with hers.  He then briefly touched his lips to her brow as he ran his hand along the back of her head.

“Congratulations,” Rosemary said, and Meg echoed the well-wishes.

After the license was completed and witnessed, Meg returned the camera to Mulder and they were free to go.  It felt surreal, walking out of the building knowing she was now married.  Mulder had taken her hand after helping her into her coat and once they reached the parking lot, he stopped and raised her knuckles up to his mouth.  It looked for a few moments like he was trying to speak to her telepathically, his gaze soft and unwavering.  It unnerved her slightly and she tipped her head, raising her brow in question.

“Well,” he said, casting his eyes down and taking a moment to clear his throat.

“What now?” she asked.

“Take you to lunch?”

To be continued.....