#sidetrips

Another prompt from @scully-eats-sushi: One Son shower decon scene

He doesn’t mean to look, but he can’t help it, his gaze drawn downward like a magnet. He tries to look away just as quickly, but she’s caught him. Fuck. He had to know, though. She puts on a brave front, deflecting with “I’m fine” whenever he asks, so given the opportunity to see for himself, he had to.

Had to see how she’s been healing.

It’s been a month since that asshole Ritter shot her in the damned gut. It looks like she’s healing okay, though. Of course she is, idiot. She’s a doctor.

He can’t believe he said that. I never saw you as a mother before. How long will it take her to read between the lines and figure out what he was really saying?

I never saw myself as a father, and I cannot imagine a life for you apart from me.

He doesn’t often ponder the future, but even in his small-town daydreams, she’s there by his side, coffee mug in hand on the front porch swing, his partner in retirement. It’s never occurred to him that she might choose something – someone – else.

@scully-eats-sushi asked for something after Padgett says “Agent Scully is already in love” in Milagro. (This might not be what you were looking for exactly, heh, but I hope you like it anyway.)

Thirty seconds. That’s all it takes. Thirty seconds of watching them together, and he knows with a sad certainty that he’s got it all wrong. Got her all wrong.

His infatuation blinded him to the one truth she buries so far from the surface, locks away so deeply that he can only conclude the person she’s trying hardest to hide it from is herself.

Now, though, her eyes and hands, even the subtle tilt of her shoulders toward her fellow agent, may as well be screaming out her secret to anyone perceptive enough.

Salt Lake City.

It’s not like she didn’t know it was coming; she wrote her letter of resignation two days ago. Nevertheless, actually hearing the words is still a kick to the gut. Just like that, her FBI career ends with a proverbial whimper.

She’s almost glad Ahab’s not around to see it.

Skinner doesn’t put up more than a token protest when she quits, and she squirms under the apology and pity in his eyes.

She sits outside Mulder’s apartment for ten full minutes, debating whether she has the strength to face him. She almost drives away three times.