DISCLAIMER - Everybody in this story belongs to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen and FOX. I mean no infringement. Category: V, M/S Something, 1st Person Rating: PG for language Spoilers: US Season Six through "One Son" Summary: Some partnerships are tougher than you think. "Whole" by Anne Haynes He doesn't tell me anything about her. What she was to him. What ended whatever they had. Not because he doesn't trust me--after all, he told me about Phoebe, about the way she messed with his head--and that was before the dust had even settled in our new partnership. I just think it's something he doesn't really give much thought to, one way or another. It's something that I imbue with more importance than he does. Whatever she was to him, she's not that to him anymore. He didn't visit her when she was in the hospital. I was the one who called and checked on her condition and shared the information with him. He hasn't haunted the basement office, seeking her favor--or her favors. She was just someone he trusted once. I think he wanted to believe he still could. I didn't want to be wrong about her. I can admit that now, now that I know that I wasn't wrong. I wanted her to be as dirty as I suspected, because every instinct I had was telling me that she didn't have Mulder's best interests at heart, no matter what. I'm not particularly proud of that, though. I'm not very happy that I basically wished yet another betrayal on him. I forget, sometimes, that he's more used to betrayal than not. That he doesn't have a mother who'd die before she did anything to hurt him, that he didn't have a father who told him the truth however hard the truth might be to bear. What I take for granted, he can't fathom. And it's not fair for me to think he should. I also forget that it's not a competition between me and the rest of the world. I'm jealous of his trust in me, I suppose, because I take pride in being the one whom he can trust without doubt, without questions. It's been hard fought, from the beginning, and the odds were so against us, but damn it, we created something incredible, special and unique. And sometimes I forget that we don't lose that uniqueness just because he finds other people he can trust as well. Frohike came by my apartment after I walked out on Mulder at the Lone Gunman office. He said that Mulder had asked him to help hunt down Diana's apartment. (I could have told you that, Mulder. The Watergate Hotel. Room 312). I think Frohike thought he'd find me in tears. He wasn't very kind in his words about Mulder. I let him rant--it felt sort of good, hearing someone else venting about my hard-headed, fool-hearted partner. But I didn't really believe any of it. Neither did Frohike. After he finished, we opened a couple of beers and practically toasted the big bastard. We both knew what it meant that Mulder had asked for Diana's address. He was going there to check up on my suspicions. That's my Mulder--for such a unique man, he can be very predictable. He told me about it later, in the car on our way to the Potomac Yard. Haltingly, obliquely---not saying much, really, but that's my Mulder, too. He mentioned a pack of Morley Lights in the drawer and a visit from the smoking bastard. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, "She didn't ask any questions, Scully. Not one." It told me what I needed to know about what he believes now. Kersh and Skinner are in a meeting with A.D. Cassidy, discussing the ramifications of what Spender revealed earlier. Mulder and I are sitting on the narrow settee outside Skinner's office, trying to ignore the way that Skinner's assistant is staring at us. After a moment, she picks up a file and walks out of the room. Mulder and I both sag a little, happy to be out from under the scrutiny. "I don't even know where to start now, Scully." I look at him, seeing the lines that have appeared, overnight, in his face since this whole ordeal began. I remember, with sad fondness, the smart-ass who greeted me on a basketball court just a few days ago with a gleam in his eyes and playing hooky in his heart. Right now, in spite of everything we've learned, I want that smart ass back. I'll go one on one with you, Milk. Name the time and place. But I know the time and place isn't now. Now's the time for figuring out how we go about the rest of our lives, now that the truth is out. I can't buy into Mulder's explanations whole-heartedly. If I do, we lose all objectivity. But deep down, I know that things aren't the way they were before. My world has shifted several degrees, and all the stubbornness in the world won't change the facts. And I deal in facts. There may very well be aliens in this world. Affecting our lives. Our future. I can't say that aloud. I have to have somewhere to come from in this partnership. Some level of skepticism. See--Mulder likes to think that my stubborn need for proof is the bane of his existence. Just like I pretend that his hard-headed need to put all his money on his instincts makes me nuts. But the truth is--- we depend on those very things from each other. His intuition. My empiricism. It makes us whole. So I give him what he needs from me. What I need to give. I touch his hand--lightly, fleetingly. "We start where we always start," I say. "With the facts we have at hand." He turns his head slowly, looks down at me. There is a fire in his eyes I haven't seen in a few days. A fire for the truth. And for me. For what I give him. Can he see that fire in me, too? His lips curve. Just a bit. Not really a smile--more like an acknowledgement. I see it, Scully. We're okay, Scully. We can do this, Scully. "I think we need to look into Tunisia," he adds. He doesn't mention Diana's name, but he doesn't have to. The words say everything. I nod in agreement. Tunisia is a good place to start. The door to Skinner's inner office opens, and Skinner stands in the door, looking at Mulder and me. I can't tell from his expression what the verdict is. He simply gives a nod toward his office, expecting us to join him and the other assistant directors inside. As we move in unison toward our future, Mulder's fingertips press lightly against the small of my back. I'm not worried, suddenly, about what lies on the other side of that door. Mulder and I know the truth. Now, one way or the other, we'll get some answers as well. ==The End==