Chicago Girl

Things had been tenuous between them for some time, but they’d been in an upswing. They’d started to get back into their old groove being reinstated to the FBI, back on the x-files, back to each other even though there was hesitation to fully reconcile. They spent most of their waking hours together, but had yet to pass an entire night in each other's company.

After their latest assignment, it was Scully that suggested they stop at the combination flea and farmer’s market, having seen signs posted along the way on their drive to the Fort Wayne airport. Seeing as they had plenty of time to kill before their flight later that evening and the only tourist attraction they’d seen advertised was for the world’s largest ball of paint, it seemed like the best option for a pit stop.

The market was in the faculty parking lot of a high school. Mulder pulled the car over behind a line of vehicles dotting the sides of the road. He stretched his back once he was on his feet, no longer acclimated to long-distance driving like he had been once upon a time. A whistle blew in the distance and he turned to watch the scrimmage on the football field past the fenceline. He breathed in the smell of the dirt and fresh cut grass.

It was a pleasant fall morning; mild and sunny, bright blue sky, low, stationary clouds, no breeze to move them along. Miles and miles of grass and cornfields as far as the eye could see.

He started slightly when he felt a hand between his shoulder blades and he looked down to find Scully at his side. Her fingers trailed softly down his spine and then hooked into the back pocket of his jeans for a moment before she dropped her arm and then squinted up at him.

“Gotta love a small town,” he said.

“You always did,” she answered.

He smiled and gave her a brief nod, resisting the urge to cup her cheek, to brush his thumb over the mole above her lip, as he’d done a thousand times before. He took her hand instead, a small, but bold gesture, something that was never even a consideration once upon a time in their first go-around. She hadn’t made any rules this time though, and besides, Special Agent Scully had been packed away that morning along with the pantsuits in her luggage.

Gravel crunched underfoot as they turned towards the flea market, clasped hands swingingly lightly.

“Are we looking for anything special?” he asked. “Or looking just to look.”

“Just to look.”

“If we were closer to home I’d get some new chairs for the porch.”

“What’s wrong with the old chairs?”

“Gotten a bit rusty.”

“Forget to put them up for the winter?”

“Me? Forget?” He chuckled when she lifted her brow in response. She smiled and squeezed his hand. He’d always forgotten and she’d always had to remind him.

They reached the tented stalls, vendors packed into two neat rows. There were fresh vegetables, homemade goat cheeses, jars of honey, and baked goods on one side, and dusty antiques, old records, toys, and knicknacks on the other. Mulder let go of Scully’s hand to rifle through a milk crate full of National Geographic magazines and she browsed a collection of novelty salt and pepper shakers at the same table.

Mulder bought a well-thumbed sci-fi novel a few stalls later that he vaguely remembered having read in junior high. He quickly shoved the small book into his back pocket as though he didn’t want Scully to see it and she promptly plucked it out to take a look at it. They play-fought over it briefly, ending with Scully in a bear hug as she pressed the book to her chest with both hands, both laughing. He loosened his arms, but still held her, peering over her shoulder as she finally got the chance to inspect his purchase.

The cover was aged, but still had a glossy patina. Like most pulp covers of the time the illustration was designed to titillate. Front and center stood a man holding a gun, crouched slightly as though prepared for battle and behind him a long-legged woman in a mini-skirt, midriff bare, clutching his hand. They were surrounded by large, silver robots, arms outstretched in attack.

“Are you actually going to read this?” she asked.

“You might like it,” he answered, reaching over to point to the people on the cover. “If memory serves, that guy was a former army captain and he teams up with a gorgeous and brilliant scientist to save the world from a robot uprising.”

“Miss Tube Top is a scientist?”

“I happen to know from personal experience that smart and sexy women aren’t just science fiction,” he murmured into her ear, pulling her hips a little tighter into his before releasing her from his arms.

Scully hummed and then spun around. She held the book out to him and he brushed his thumb along hers as he took it and put it back in his pocket. They walked on, rejoining hands, fingers threading naturally together.

“You can borrow it when I’m finished,” he said. “The book. If you’d like.”

“No, thank you. I have no doubt you’ll subject me to a lengthy book report in the coming days, anyway.”

“Do you have a preference for oral, or written?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “After all these years, I think you know my preference by now, Mulder.”

“Yeah, I think I do.” He stopped and took her elbow, pulling her towards him as he bent his head to kiss the corner of her mouth. She smiled into his next kiss on her lips and put a hand on his chest.

“Double-spaced,” she murmured against his lips, “single-sided, one inch margins, TImes New Roman font, by the end of the week.”

He chuckled and then straightened, tossing his head back with a groan. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, bright with amusement and mischief. He hadn’t seen that look from her in a long time. Her fingernails scratched lightly at his t-shirt and he covered her hand with his against his chest. The moment was broken when someone walking by bumped his shoulder and they both sidestepped out of the way.

“I uh…saw a sign back there for the restroom,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder. “Gonna hit it up before you dole out anymore assignments.”

“I’m going to wander.”

“I’ll find you.”

“You always do.”

She slipped her hand out from his and turned to walk away. She didn’t look back, though she was tempted just to see if he was watching. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she hoped he was.

She didn’t really know what had gotten into her, but she was feeling flirty. Lately, things had felt like the best of old times and it made her nostalgic. She’d missed all of this. The work, the challenge, the mystery, even the long car rides through the middle of nowhere, but most of all she just missed him. She missed being together. She missed his touch, his humor, his companionship, the solid and safe presence of him when he was beside her. She missed the way he made her feel and the way he looked at her when she played the tease. She knew he felt the same and they should probably stop wasting anymore time.

At a table before her, she picked up a crocheted bumblebee amongst the display of handmade creatures. It was hard to believe it had been eighteen years since waking up in Antarctica. She thumbed the little yarn stinger on the bees backside and then put it down. There were some things she preferred not to remember.

She moved on to a stall of aromatic soaps and oils, neatly displayed on cloth-covered tables forming a horseshoe. Each bar was wrapped in tissue paper, closed with a small gold sticker embossed with the initials JM and a handwritten label indicated the blend. She brought a few to her nose to smell. Lemongrass, peppermint, lavender, and eucalyptus. She was particularly drawn to one called vanilla chai. A small stack of brochures was in the centermost table, held down by a heavy geode.

Miller Family Soaps. All soaps are handcrafted by Certified Aromatherapist Jane Miller using all natural, locally sourced ingredients, and made from the milk of our farm’s seven Nigerian Dwarf goats. Personalized wellness blends are available through private consultation. Call 555-3849 for more information and pricing. Stop by the farm off Route 127 and meet the goats for yourself!

At the bottom of the brochure was a black and white photo of what Scully presumed were the goats in question, lined up like they were taking a class photo. She smiled and folded the brochure three times over and slipped it into her pocket.

A few minutes later, she had two bars of soap in hand, the vanilla chai for her and an orange sandalwood for Mulder, ready to purchase. There was a woman at the end of the tables, a basket of soaps on one hip, her back to Scully.

“Fine, fine, but only the ones at Miss Shirley’s table and don’t even think about asking for hot dogs this time.”

Scully froze at the sound of the woman’s voice as she got closer. She turned quickly, a chill coming over her in an instant. She felt as though she were going to hyperventilate and she took a few deliberately long and deep breaths. She turned again, slowly, trying to keep a neutral, casual expression on her face. The woman still had her back to Scully and she was speaking to a young girl Scully guessed to be thirteen or fourteen with long, auburn hair and a little boy no more than eight who was the spitting image of her brother Charlie. Scully swallowed. The kids started to walk away.

“Spence, hold Abby’s hand,” the woman called after them, “and I mean it you two, no hot dogs, and if you go out to the field, don’t get in your father’s way!”

Scully stared at the back of the woman’s head. Her hair was a faded strawberry blonde, pulled into a loose braid falling halfway down her back while unruly curls managed to frizz at the scalp. She wore a long-sleeved floral dress down to her ankles and Birkenstocks on her feet. Her wrists jangled with a plethora of slim bracelets.

“Missy…” Scully breathed.

The woman turned, but didn’t appear startled. Scully sucked in a breath. It wasn’t just that the tone and cadence of the woman’s voice matched that of her sister, the resemblance was more than striking.

“Oh, hello,” the woman said, setting her basket of soaps down onto the table. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.” She took a glance over her shoulder and put a hand on her head. “Kids. They were supposed to be with my mother-in-law today, but she got sick and…anyhow, I’m rambling. Hi, I’m Jane. Those soaps are five each, or three for twelve if you wanted to get another.”

“Um…” Scully turned, searching. She grabbed the closest bar of soap and then handed them over to the woman, trying not to stare, but finding it impossible not to. The woman, fortunately, seemed too distracted to notice, placing each bar gently into a brown paper bag.

“Twelve even,” the woman said, passing Scully the bag. “We can take cash or Venmo.”

Scully knew she had a twenty dollar bill in her pocket and she gave it to the woman. “Jane…Miller? From the brochure?”

“That’s right.”

“Do I look familiar to you at all?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Jane gave Scully her change and then put her hands on her cheeks, looking chagrined. “Did we meet at the PTA fundraiser last month? I apologize, there were so many new faces and I have terrible recall. You’re…?”

“Dana.”

“Dana…Dana…” Jane squinted and then shook her head. “Remind me, are you Beth’s friend?”

“No, I’m just…my partner and I are passing through and…” Scully felt her eyes drifting up and caught the hint of a scar creeping out from Jane’s hairline above her temple. She quickly looked away, but her gaze shifted again almost immediately. Jane slid her fingers up to her temple and Scully’s face flushed.

“I’m sorry,” Scully said. “I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Old brain injury,” Jane answered. “Not that that’s an excuse, but that’s why it takes me a little longer in the memory department, even if it was almost twenty years ago.”

“Brain injury? What kind of brain injury? I’m…I’m a medical doctor, maybe I…may I ask what happened?”

“Car accident.”

“Oh…”

“That’s what started this though.” Jane gestured vaguely at the tables. “When I came out of the coma I had terrible headaches, terrible nausea, you know…well, terrible everything as you might imagine.”

“How long were you in a coma?”

“Ten months. I had a lovely physical therapist that taught me about using different scents to aid in healing and once I’d fully recovered it was like I’d found my calling. I got certified in aromatherapy and well, it became more of a hobby once my kids were born, but now that they’re older I’m able to find ways to use my credentials.” She lowered her voice slightly and leaned closer to Scully. “People around here though, you tell them you’ve got a license to use some nice smelling oils and they think you’re into crystals and tarot cards.”

“Are you…into crystals and tarot cards?”

Jane smiled and shrugged, lifting her brows. Scully licked the corner of her mouth. She wanted to embrace this woman, even if she wasn’t who she thought she was, she wanted to feel what it might be like to have her sister’s arms around her one more time, to breathe her in again, smell that combination of patchouli and sage that Melissa wore like a second skin. Her eyes started to well and she blinked and looked away.

“Uh, I…I take it you’re not…from here then?” Scully asked.

“Well, my husband is from Indianapolis. I grew up just outside of Chicago.”

“Do you still have family there?”

Jane gave Scully a curious look and Scully closed her eyes, pressing her lips together into a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” Scully said. “You just…you look a lot like someone I lost a long time ago and I’m…I must look like I’ve seen a ghost…”

“Let me see your hand.” Jane reached out and gently took hold of Scully’s wrist, turning her hand palm up. Jane’s hands were soft and warm. She pressed her index finger into the outer tendon at Scully’s wrist and then took a deep breath. “Breathe with me,” she said, taking another slow, deep breath.

“Oh, I don’t…” Scully trailed off as Jane’s other hand came to rest on the top of her head and she pressed her thumb to the space between Scully’s eyes.

“Focus on your breathing,” Jane instructed, pressing a little more firmly against Scully’s wrist. “In through the mouth and out through the nose. We want to slow the heart rate by putting pressure here at the Spirit Gate.” Jane then moved her thumb in small circles, massaging the spot between Scully’s brows. “And this,” she said. “The Ajna chakra. For emotional regulation.”

Scully tried to breathe deep, but she shuddered on intake and Jane moved Scully’s hand up and put it on her chest, pressing the heel of Scully’s hand into her breastplate. Scully felt herself become aware of her chest expanding against her palm with every inhale, aware of the quick thump of her heartbeat, aware of Jane’s hand that moved from her head to her back and straightened her spine with a gentle press.

“The Sea of Qi,” Jane said. “For relieving anxiety and stress.”

They were both still for a few moments, Jane holding Scully straight with the press of her hands. And then Jane took her hands away and Scully sagged, feeling bereft from the loss of her. She blinked her eyes open and Jane had moved away towards the center of the tables and was rifling through a small wooden box. Scully opened her mouth, but was at a loss for words.

“You need frankincense,” Jane said, coming back to Scully, a small bottle in her hand. “Put a few drops in a hot bath or dab a bit on the pulse points. On the wrists or behind the ears. Also-”

“Mooooooooom!”

Both Jane and Scully turned at the sound of a little boy’s voice. Over Jane’s shoulder, Scully saw Mulder, walking towards the tables. He stopped short, his mouth falling open. He cut his eyes to Scully and back to Jane and then slowly moved his way to the stall. There was panic on his face that she could read past the stoic facade. He slid an arm around her waist, taking a firm grasp of her hip and pulling her to his side like he was subtly trying to urge her away.

“Mulder…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered to her. “Did you-”

“Sorry about that, we seem to have some kind of chocolate chip cookie crisis on our hands,” Jane said, turning her attention back to Scully. “Oh, hello. You must be Dana’s partner? I’m Jane.”

“Mulder.”

“Fox,” Scully said, speaking over Mulder and scrutinizing Jane’s face for any sign of recognition. There was none. “His name is Fox Mulder.”

“How unique,” Jane said.

“Your name is Fox?” the little boy asked. “Like a…fox fox?”

“Afraid so,” Mulder answered.

“That’s weird.”

“Spencer!” Jane chastised. “Did you leave your manners at home today? Apologize right now, young man.”

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled. His pale skin had a pink blush, which made the freckles on his face stand out. He leaned back against Jane’s stomach as she put a hand to his chest and one on his head, much like how she’d just calmed Scully.

“Now you know why I go by Mulder.”

“What was I saying before?” Jane asked.

“Um…frankincense,” Scully answered.

“Right.” Jane passed the little bottle over to Scully. “Take this, I probably have dozens back at home. And get yourself some chamomile. Anywhere that sells essential oils should have it, no problem.”

“Thank you, that’s really…” Scully lost her train of thought as she caught sight of a small, pale pink mole at the bottom of Jane’s right earlobe. Melissa had that same mole. She felt faint, like her knees were going to give out on her.

“Not to be rude,” Mulder said, digging his fingers into Scully’s hip, “but, we have to get back on the road so we don’t miss our flight.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Jane said. “Safe travels.”

Scully felt like she was on autopilot as Mulder pulled her away from the stall. He was moving quickly, radiating tension and adrenaline.

“Mulder…” she squeaked, voice pinched and breathless.

“Keep moving, Scully.”

“Why?”

“Just get to the car.”

“Mulder, my…that was…it couldn’t…”

He didn’t say anything else to her, just hustled her to the car and put her into the passenger seat himself before coming around to the driver’s side. She felt as though she was in a fog of confusion and he was in a heightened state of awareness, looking over his shoulder and in the rear view mirror as though danger was imminent. They were at least ten miles away from the market when Scully finally broke through the haze and demanded that Mulder stop the car.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

Mulder wouldn’t-couldn’t look at her. He cut the ignition and stared out the windshield and the empty highway, white knuckling the steering wheel. It had been years since he’d even considered something like this might happen and he’d forgotten all the things he’d once thought about to say to her.

“Mulder? Who was that woman? Was that…was it Melissa? Was it my sister?”

He hesitated to answer, which was a mistake. “Your sister is dead, Scully.” He clenched his jaw and Scully saw the muscle in his neck twitch.

“Why do I not believe you?”

“Because the truth is…the truth is that that woman might have once been Melissa Scully, but not anymore.”

“What does that even mean?”

Mulder sighed. “You’ll obviously remember when I was contacted by the clone of my sister, the group of them, actually.”

“Of course I do.”

“And that we thought they’d all been murdered after the exchange was made on the bridge that night.”

Scully nodded and swallowed. It was an incident that used to make her stomach flip every time she thought about the fact that Mulder had given up the woman he’d thought was his sister for her, before they knew the truth of who the woman was. It made her stomach flip thinking about it again.

“Well, they weren’t,” he said. “Not all of them, anyway. And…when they heard about what happened to your sister, they took it upon themselves to…make their own exchange, of sorts.”

Scully put her hands over her face, pressing her fingertips deep into her forehead. “They abducted a dying woman? Used her as a lab rat and you kept it from me all this time?”

“No! No, it wasn’t like that, I swear to you, Scully. It was an act of kindness, they wanted to…what they wanted to do was heal her. They were doctors, scientists, just like you. And they thought they’d be doing us a favor, keeping her safe like…like witness protection.”

“And that woman back there, Jane, are you telling me they cloned my sister?”

Mulder shook his head. “They were able to keep your sister alive, physically heal her, but her memory…her memory was gone. She had no…she didn’t know who she was and when it became clear that she never would they decided that…that the best thing they could do was give her a new life. So, they did.”

“But, what does that mean? What did they do to her?”

“They gave her some kind of implant that they’d been working on that altered memories. It’s my understanding the intention was to remove painful memories of an abductee's experience. Like…Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind style.”

“This isn’t funny, Mulder.”

“I’m not laughing.”

Scully turned away, her elbow braced against the window of the car. She put a curled finger in her mouth and bit her knuckle not to scream.

“What they did was create a new life for her,” he said.

“A lie,” she responded. “What they created was a lie.”

“They thought it was the humane thing to do.”

“Humane!?” Scully exploded, pulsing with fury. “You call taking a woman away from her life and family and treating her like…like Frankenstein’s monster, you call that humane? She was just another science experiment to them!”

“They kept her alive, Scully. She was in a coma for I don’t know how long and once she came to, the longer she went without recovering her memory, the more agitated, depressed, and anxious she became. They did what they thought was best.”

“I can’t listen to this anymore.” Scully yanked at the door handle and tried to get out of the car, but she was stopped by the seatbelt, jolting her back into the seat. She growled in frustration and released herself before stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind her. She heard the slam of Mulder’s door as well as she walked away from the car, hands on her hips, breathing heavily.

Finally she stopped, her back to him, staring at the ocean of green grass ahead of them and the grey line of highway that stretched endlessly through it. It looked like a straight line, but it felt like a circle. She turned. Mulder was behind her, hands in his pockets, looking grim.

“I want you to know I didn’t find out until years later,” Mulder said.

Scully took a few steps towards him, brows coming together in consternation. “But, you knew. You knew and never said anything.”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, how about ‘your sister is alive and well and living in Indiana!’”

“I didn’t know that!” he argued, rubbing the back of his head. “Scully, I didn’t know that. Aside from what I just told you, I didn’t know her name, I didn’t know where she lived, I didn’t know her job, I didn’t know anything other than she’d been taken out of the hospital and her death was faked. You saw her back there and she had no idea who you or I were. The reason I didn’t tell you your sister was alive is because she isn’t. Melissa Scully is dead. And that woman you saw back there isn’t her. I didn’t say anything because opening up that can of worms was…I didn’t want to do that. To you or to her.”

“Why did you get to make that choice? Why you alone when it’s my sister?”

“I don’t know, Scully, why did you get to make the choice to give William up when he was my son too?”

Scully reeled back as though she’d been slapped. She stood stock still, nostrils flaring, trying her damndest not to start shaking, but her hands started to tremble and then the rest of her followed. She blinked rapidly and then angrily swiped at the tears pooling in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean that,” Mulder said, reaching out for her, but reflexively drawing back when Scully took a step away from him. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeated. “I just…I just couldn’t stand the idea of bringing you any more pain. I think we both know how unbearable it is knowing he…knowing someone is out there somewhere and you can’t do anything about it.”

She could understand it, but it didn’t excuse the fact that he’d kept something from her. It was the truth of her stolen ova all over again, it was all the times he’d run off on her in the middle of an investigation and left her in the dark. It was a pattern she couldn’t accept any longer.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she said. “Finding things out about my own life that come as no surprise to you.”

“There is nothing else that I have kept from you, I swear. Scully, nothing.”

“I wish I could believe that,” she whispered, voice strained with the tears that had now begun to roll down her cheeks.

“Scully…” He blinked back tears of his own. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were in an upswing. They were getting their groove back. He was going to ask her to move back in.

She wiped her eyes and then folded her arms across her chest, walking back to the car with her head down. He stood in the middle of the highway, endless road in front of him, endless road behind him, and wasn’t sure if they would recover or if this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Wait, a minute,” he said, trotting after her. “Hold on!”

If Scully heard him, she didn’t acknowledge it, and he grabbed her elbow when he caught up with her and pulled her to a halt. She frowned and tried to jerk her arm free, but he held on, forcing her to turn towards him.

“You told me to stop looking for my sister so many times over the years I’ve lost count,” he said. “You told me to stop bringing the darkness into our life, into our home.”

“That didn’t mean lie to me.”

“I never lied. I just didn’t tell you what little I’d found out, but I didn’t lie. I didn’t even know if it was real or some kind of set-up to try to lure me out of hiding. Dammit, Scully, you have no idea how hard it was not to dive headfirst down that rabbit hole. But, I didn’t, as much for your sake as for mine because if I’d started, I…I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”

“You never stopped, Mulder. You never will. Every light in the sky, every monster in the dark, every conspiracy that needs to be unraveled, you’ll always be there.”

“And now we’re back to the beginning of the end again.” He let go of her elbow and let his arms drop heavily to his sides in defeat. “Except I did exactly what you asked me to do. I did hold back.”

“And why is that?” Scully crossed her arms with a frown and narrowed her eyes. “If it were your sister, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“So are you angry with me that I did what you asked of me and never pulled at that thread, or that I didn’t tell you about something I never investigated in the first place?”

“Both!”

Mulder turned, lacing his fingers together at the back of his head while he puffed his cheeks and blew out a long, steady breath. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Scully, all I know is that I was emailed a video that was less than five minutes long. It was of one of the God knows how many clones are out there of Samantha. It looked like it was recorded secretly, like bodycam footage, grainy image, hard to hear. Someone off camera asks what happened to Melissa Scully. She explains exactly what I told you and the video cuts out.”

“Who sent it to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“It never crossed your mind to find out?”

“Of course it did. I struggled for months over what to do about it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you already had one foot out the door!” He threw his hands up and then shook his head. “You had your battles with the hospital, you were still angry at me for helping the FBI on that case, you weren’t even coming home except once every, what, two-three weeks? It was too questionable. I had nothing to go on and I had to wonder why someone was sending it to me and the timing of it, if it was even real. Who would be hurt? Who would be put in danger if I started digging? But, I just kept coming back to what you’d said to me in that locker room. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want ‘the darkness’ in our home.”

Scully tightened her crossed arms and lowered her head. “I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t talk to me,” she said.

He sighed and put his hands up like he was going to embrace her, but he stopped himself short of touching her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let’s be honest, Scully, open communication was never our strong suit, if it wasn’t about work. And even then…”

She lifted her eyes to him, then quickly dropped her gaze and shook her head slightly. Keeping things to themselves, holding their cards close to the vest was nothing new for either of them, especially when they wanted to protect themselves or one another.

“Maybe I should have said something a lot sooner,” he said, taking a cautious step towards her. “But, can you at least see why I didn’t? Why I couldn’t?”

She raised her eyes again and this time held his gaze. Her chin wobbled, but her lips were defiantly pressed closed. He put a hand on her cheek and then bent to touch his forehead to hers.

“You’ve gone through more than any person should ever have to,” he whispered. “Lost so much.”

“We both have,” she murmured.

He moved to kiss her brow and then pulled away. She kept her head down, eyes closed, until he grazed a knuckle under her chin and the dam burst. She let out a sob, falling forward against his chest. He enveloped her in his arms, one hand buried deep in her hair and the other molding to the curve of her hip.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so damn sorry, Scully.”

She shuddered against him, deflating just a little as she let go of her initial anger and the sorrow crept in. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, too quick, but hers was faster still. She breathed deep, holding the strange aroma of aftershave and dust and adrenaline in her lungs before exhaling long and slow. When she finally pulled away, it was with an upturned face and Mulder’s hands brushing the tears from her cheeks.

“Do you want to go back?” he asked.

“Back?” she questioned.

“To the flea market. To explain the situation.”

After a hesitant pause, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“Do you want to investigate?”

“Right now I don’t know what I want.”

He nodded. A soft breeze stirred her hair and he pushed it back from her eyes. She surprised him by stepping back into his chest and wrapping her arms around him. It was his turn to shudder, overwhelmed by that small bit of reassurance that they weren’t lost to each other. He took a moment to run his hands up and down her arms when the hug ended and they got back in the car.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” he said, buckling his seatbelt.

“Right at the first crossroads, I think,” she answered, retrieving the map she’d stored in the glove compartment when they’d stopped for the flea market. “It’ll take us back to the interstate.”

It was a good ten minutes before they reached their turn. As the car veered, the bottle of frankincense rolled across the floorboard and hit Scully in the foot. She picked it up, held it in her palm for a few moments before she unscrewed the cap. She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and thought of her sister.