Fevers of the Mind (2/2)

by Vickie Moseley
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com


Georgetown Memorial
8:15 am

"sccc-u-u-ull-lleeee," he rasped again, tossing his
head from one side to the next.

"I'm here, Mulder.  I'm right here," she crooned, but
just as they had for the last half hour, her words fell
on deaf ears.  He wouldn't listen, or more
frightening to her, he couldn't listen.  Deafness was
a very real possibility when the brain swelled and
the fever grew to such heights.  She stroked his face
with the damp cloth in her hand.  "Please, Mulder.  
Open your eyes.  You'll see I'm right here."

She'd managed to sleep about three hours before his
fever spiked again and dropped him into this state
of restless movement.  The nurse taking his vitals
had put in another call to Harriman, but the doctor
decided to wait before changing medications.  So
Scully had asked for a bowl and a face cloth and
began the ritual her mother had performed on her
and her siblings when they had fevers.

"scully?"  The whisper was so soft she thought it
was a moan.   When she looked at his face, the
hazel showing through the slits of his eyelids
conveyed a spark of coherence.  

"Mulder," she said with a smile.  "Hey, good
morning."

He blinked and moved his shoulders.  "hot," he said.  
"neck hurts," he added.

"I know, I'm sorry.  We're waiting for the good stuff
to kick in.  Can you hold on for me a little longer?"

He moved his head up and down cautiously; it
obviously hurt to move his head much at all.  
"water?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied and brought a cup up to his lips,
moving the straw so he didn't have to lean forward
to reach it.  He took a few sips and then released the
straw.  

"thank you."

"You're welcome.  Why don't you try to go back to
sleep now," she encouraged.

"you're tired, too" he accused, his face taking on a
stubborn expression.

"I'm fine.  I slept while you were sleeping.  But you
need to rest and let your body and the medicine do
their jobs."

He had no answer to that, so he closed his eyes with
a defeated sigh.

Harriman came by at 9 and announced that he was
adding ampicillin to the current antibiotic in the
hopes of getting a handle on the infection.  Scully
was relieved that the doctor was making a change.  
She told him about the few moments when Mulder
seemed to be awake and aware.

"He'll be in and out for a while, even after we get
the fever under control.  It's the long-term effects
that pose the greatest risks right now.  If we can
avoid the usual complications of this disease,
hearing loss, blindness, we'll all count ourselves
lucky.  At least we haven't had to contend with
seizures yet."

Scully prayed that seizures wouldn't be a problem.  
She knew more than anyone what that would mean
for Mulder.  Field agent status regulations were
explicit on such matters -- no agent with a history of
seizures was allowed in the field.  They'd had to tap
dance around his ketamine incident, basically
saying his seizures then were injury related and in
no way a lasting condition.  She didn't want to deal
with the ramifications of a full medical evaluation
when this crisis was over.

She took his hand once again.  "Mulder, please,
hang on."

Jefferson Memorial
night

He'd always loved looking at the lights of the city
reflected in the cool depths of the reflecting pool.  
The headlights of the cars on Independence Avenue
made a string of pearls in the distance.  He was
alone, but his mind was at peace.  

He felt her presence before he actually saw her sit
down next to him.  "Is this seat taken?"

He smiled at the old joke.  "It is now," he said with
a smile in her direction but not really catching her
eyes with his.  "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for somebody," she replied.

He tensed, waiting for the inevitable argument.  
That's all they'd been doing for days -- arguing.  
Ever since the OPR hearing, ever since she'd all but
hung him out to dry before the powers that be,
they'd barely said two civil words to each other.  
He'd come here to find some peace; he didn't want
to start the war again.

"Scully -- "

"I'm looking for a friend of mine.  See, we've been
having a bit of a rough patch and I've said some
things and he's said some things and I think we're
both really tired and we just want everything to be
all right again.  You haven't seen anybody with a
white flag running around here, have you?"

He couldn't keep the grin off his face.  He dug in his
pocket and withdrew his cotton handkerchief.  "You
mean this?" he asked, waving it in the air briefly
before dropping to his lap.

She reached over and picked up the hankie, giving it
a quick wave.  "Gee, it works," she said with a tilt
to her head.  "Mulder, I wanted to say I'm sorry -- "

"Scully, as you pointed out, we both said some
things."

She stared off in the distance for a moment.  "I
guess I also wanted to ask you a question," she said
timidly.

He chewed on his lip.  He had a feeling he knew
what she was going to ask.  The bigger question
was did he have an honest answer.  "You want to
know about Diana," he countered.

She looked over at him and drew in a breath.  
"Yeah.  I need to know -- "

"I'm not in a relationship with her, Scully," he
blurted out.

" -- why you trust her and not me?" Scully finished,
right over his outburst.

He felt his heart tear right down the middle.

"It isn't like that," he insisted.

"Yes, Mulder.  Yes, it is exactly that.  You trust her,
beyond the evidence, beyond all reason.  I want to
know . . . I need to know why.  Is it something I've
done to cause you to lose faith in me?"

He felt all the air leave his body.  It was almost as
bad as if she'd punched him in the gut.  "Scully, I've
never lost my faith in you," he whispered, barely
able to get the words out because he was so
surprised by her question.

"Then why, all the times it has come right down to
the line, do you always believe her and not me?"
she asked evenly, looking him square in the eye.

He had to look away first and he knew that was the
wrong thing to do.  She would misunderstand; take
it as a sign that she was right.  So her grabbed her
hands firmly in both of his and swallowed.  Please,
if I ever needed the right words, I need them now,
he prayed.

"Scully, I never told you about Diana and me and
I'm very sorry I didn't."

"It's not any of my business what you were in the
past, Mulder," she interjected, he noted the tone of
bitterness in her words.  "Whatever you had
together it was before I came along.  I'm not foolish
enough to think you had no friends before me," she
said with a tilt of her head.  "But after all our years
together, I have to wonder if maybe I was seeing
too much into our relationship.  If maybe I was just
. . . standing in for her.  I mean, when we were first
partnered, my greatest fear was that I was a
substitute for Samantha, but now I think -- "

"Scully, please, please listen to me.  This is hard to
explain but believe me when I tell you that you
were never a substitute for anyone.  Your place in
my life is yours and yours alone and no one but you
can take that place.  Now, please, can I say what I
was going to say before?"

He could almost see the wheels and gears turning in
her head.  She was trying to decide if she really
wanted to give him another chance.  Finally, he
knew the instant she found in his favor.  He relaxed
a second and started to speak again.

"I met Diana when we were both working Violent
Crimes.  We weren't partners, not officially, but we
worked a couple of task forces together.  Her
expertise is psychology and mine is, or rather was,
psychology, so we figured out pretty fast that it
made it easier to share the load rather than do the
same work twice."

She leaned back in the seat, but allowed him to
continue holding her hands.

"You've seen, at least a couple of times, the kind of
reaction I got from most of the guys in VCU.  
Frankly, Tom Colton was tame compared to some
of them.  So, it was nice to have someone to talk to,
who understood a little of what I was going through
-- who was going through it themselves.  Sort of
like it's been for the last 7 years," he added with a
raised eyebrow in her direction and a gentle squeeze
of her hands.  She wasn't about to make this easier
on him -- she stared right back at him without
acknowledging his gestures.  He swallowed and
started again.

"Well, I was pretty much a total cad back then, as
I'm sure you're heard.  I was sleeping my way
through the support staff when Diana and I started
working together.  I don't think I led anyone on,
they were all 'one night stands' and no one sent me
hate mail or anything, so I was pretty oblivious.   
We were working late one night, at her apartment
and -- "
 
"Mulder, I really don't want to hear this," Scully
said, pulling on her hands to break their connection.  
He held her all the tighter.

"Scully, please, it's important.  Please.  Trust me,"
he begged.  That earned him a glare, but she
stopped tugging on her hands.

"OK, well, we slept together.  And the next
morning, we agreed that it was the biggest mistake
we ever could have made.   So we decided,
mutually, to forget it ever happened and go back to
being friends."

Scully sat up straight, shock on her face.  "Wait a
minute.  Byers said . . . Frohike called her your
'little chickadee' . . ."

"Scully, I don't tell the guys my exploits.  At least
not with the people I care about.  They made
assumptions, big assumptions.  And I didn't bother
to dispel any of them because, frankly, it wasn't
their business."

"Anyway, back to the story.  So we got a case, I was
the profiler, Diana was helping me out.  It was . . .
bad.  Women, they were all about the same age
Samantha should have been -- and I was just
starting my work with Dr. Weber.  Needless to say,
it had a horrible effect on me.  One night I was in
the conference room that we had set up for the case
and it all just overwhelmed me.  I was alone when it
happened -- "

"Mulder," she said, drawing in a breath.  "What
happened?"

"I lost it.  Completely.  When Diana found me, I
was, uh, my gun . . . "  He couldn't say the word.  
Not ever after all the years, he couldn't bring
himself to say the word 'suicide'.  "I had cut myself
pretty bad tearing up the room and one window and
I was bleeding, I didn't even know it.  She got the
gun away from me and uh, she got me out of there.  
She knew of a clinic in Northeast DC," he snorted at
the memory.  "I was the only male on the premises,
except for one other doctor.  Anyway, they stitched
me up, gave me fluids.  From somewhere Diana got
a prescription for some sedatives.  She took me
back to her apartment and didn't leave me for the
next 72 hours."

"She should have taken you to a hospital," Scully
seethed.

"If she had, it would have ended my career," he said
softly.  "So, anyway, I slept it off, basically.  I took
the sedatives for a couple of weeks, they did help.  I
finally got Weber to give me a prescription, my own
prescription for them.  And I knew I had to get out
of Violent Crimes.  Diana convinced me to call in
some markers -- she knew that Sen. Matheson was a
friend of my mother's from college.  I went to him
and got reassigned to the X files."

She pulled one of her hands away, but only to wipe
at her cheek.  He realized she was crying.  Then he
realized, he was crying too.  "Diana was so
supportive of me, she just wanted to help.  I needed
a friend so bad back then . . . " He swallowed and
cleared his throat.  "So I got to work.  Pretty soon, I
came across some stuff I couldn't do by myself and
Diana stepped in.  She wasn't assigned to the files;
she could only help me after hours and on
weekends.  We pretty much took up the whole
weekend, every weekend, just sorting through what
was in the file cabinets."

"So what happened?  Why did she leave?"

He shrugged.  "I guess she got a better offer?" he
said, trying for the joke but it fell horribly flat.  
"Seriously, one day she came to me with the news
that she'd been offered a chance to go to Europe,
something she'd always dreamed of doing.  I think,
well, it's probably just my ego, but I thought at the
time that if I'd asked her to stay, she would have.  
But I was stronger, I'd grown stronger with her help.  
So I wished her the best, helped her sell her
furniture and clean out her apartment and drove her
to the airport.  That was that."

He looked down at their hands together.  "I have a
very hard time thinking that the same woman who
could have easily ended my career but didn't --
would do anything to hurt me," he said slowly.  "I
have no evidence to support such a finding.  I know
that Diana has done some things, and to be perfectly
honest, if anyone should be jealous -- it should be
Diana.  When she left, I think she figured she could
always come back and pick up exactly where we
left off.  But then she did come back and there you
were and things were changed, very changed.  I
think she felt threatened by that.  I think some of the
animosity you have against her is a natural reaction
to the animosity she has for you."

"You think this is just a silly quarrel of two girls
over a boy in high school?" Scully growled, tugging
her hands free.

"No, no, not at all!" he was quick to counter and
took one of her hands back into his.  "I'm just
saying the two of you were not going to be fast
friends, no matter how you first met.  You didn't
just read the files, Scully.  You _became_ the files.  
The truth we search for isn't just my truth about my
sister; it's YOUR truth about what happened to you,
what happened to Melissa, what happened to Emily.  
And I think, in a way, that's what has Diana so
upset.  That not only did you step in and take her
place in the files, you did so in such a way that she
could never get them back, even if she tried.  It's not
me that she's jealous over, Scully.  It's what we
found in those files."

Scully pulled her hand away only for a moment, to
lay it on his cheek.  "Mulder, you are a fool.  A
sweet, innocent, totally oblivious fool and it's
putting you in danger.  Diana doesn't want the files.  
She wants your soul.  And until you understand
that, there isn't any reason for me to stay and watch
your self-destruction."  She stood and laid the same
hand on the top of his head.  "You have some
thinking to do."

As she walked into the night, he dropped his face to
his hands and sobbed.

Georgetown Memorial
12:05 pm

Scully was exhausted.  Having spent close to 12
hours bathing Mulder's face and chest, his
temperature was finally showing some
improvement.  She dropped to the chair near his bed
and closed her eyes for just a second.  When a hand
clasped her shoulder, she jumped a foot.

"Dana, sweetheart, I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to scare
you," Maggie Scully apologized hurriedly.  "Dana,
are you all right?"

"Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked, wiping
sleep from her eyes.

"I haven't heard from you in weeks, Dana," Maggie
said in exasperation.  "I left messages at your
apartment -- "

"I was out of town for a while," Scully interjected,
but her mother continued as if the younger woman
hadn't said a thing.

"-- and finally I called your office.  I talked to your
supervisor, Mr. Skinner.  He told me that Fox was
in the hospital again and that you were probably
still with him.  I came right away.  Dana, did you
sleep here last night?"  The exasperation was
quickly becoming concern.

"Mom, Mulder has meningitis.  I did stay here last
night, but I didn't get much sleep.  He's been
running a high temp and he's been very restless."

Maggie looked over at the man in the bed with a
worried expression.  "Well, he seems to be resting
now.  Why don't you come downstairs and get
something to eat?"

"Mom, I don't -- "

"Dana, please.  We go through this every time Fox
is in the hospital.  You can tell the nurses where
you're going, we'll only stay down there a half an
hour, tops.  You need to eat -- you're running
yourself into the ground.  And then what good will
you be to him when he's ready to go home?"

It was a hard decision, but Amy, the nurse assigned
to Mulder's care, encouraged her to go.  So it was
only a few minutes later that Scully found herself
seated in the hospital cafeteria with a salad,
meatloaf and mashed potatoes and an iced tea in
front of her.

"Their meatloaf is really pretty good," Maggie
confided.  "Not as good as Grandma Mulligan's
recipe, but not that bad, either."

"When did you get to be an expert on Georgetown
Memorial's meatloaf, Mom," Dana asked, taking a
bite and finding her mother's assessment wasn't far
from the mark.

Maggie dropped her eyes to her own plate.  "I've
been here too many times to count," she said darkly.  
But the shadow passed quickly and she looked up
and smiled at her daughter.  "Now, tell me, where
have you been for the last two weeks?  Even your
cell phone was off.  Another case?"

Scully drew in a breath and fought the tears that
burned her eyes.  "Mom, I was in Africa.  The Ivory
Coast, to be exact."

"Africa!  Good heaven's Dana!  What in heaven's
name were you doing there?"

"Heaven wasn't really involved," Dana quipped
bitterly.  She looked over at her mother's shocked
expression.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just so tired right now .
. ."

Maggie reached across the table and clutched
Scully's hand.  "Sweetheart, I know you're worried
about Fox, but I know these doctors and he's
receiving -- "

"It's not that . . . well, it is, but it's not just that.  
Something happened in Africa -- I saw something
and I need to understand -- Mom, if I could give
you solid scientific proof that the God we know, the
God they've taught us about all these years in
religion class and in the Mass was just a fairy tale,
that something altogether different happened
millions of years ago, continues to happen today --
would you hate me for it?" she asked timidly.

Maggie's face underwent a thousand emotional
changes until she settled on one -- understanding.  
"Dana, my faith isn't based in science.  And to be
honest, science never provides all the answers.  
Every new discovery, every new piece of 'solid
proof' just leads to more questions and more
discoveries in the future.  Science is constantly
being shaped by what just happened.  Faith, my
darling daughter, isn't like that.  Faith is an absolute
-- because faith doesn't rely on proof and evidence.  
Faith just is.  So, to answer your question, no, I
could never hate you.  But to go even further, no
matter what you showed me, it wouldn't change my
faith at all.  My faith is stronger than that.  It's held
fast through so many rough times.  It's seen me
through so many dark periods of my life.  I believe
in God, the way He's always been shown to me.  
How He came to exist, whatever He might be, He's
still the same God to me.  That's all I need to
know."

Scully was openly crying by then.  She nodded, and
tried to control herself, but the tears just wouldn't
cooperate.  Maggie sensed immediately what was
needed.  "Dana, come with me.  There's somewhere
we need to go."  They gathered up their trays and
took them to the tray return.  Maggie grasped
Scully's hand again, leading her through the
hallways, up elevators, around corners until they
stood in front of an ornate wooden door.  The small
brass plaque proclaimed simply 'Chapel'.  Maggie
smiled at her daughter and opened the door.  "I
know what you've seen has shaken your faith,
sweetheart.  But know one thing -- no matter where
you go, it will be here, waiting for you to come
home.  Now, let's go say a prayer for Fox, that he'll
have the strength to see him through this illness."  
She reached up and cupped her daughter's cheek.  
"And that you'll have the strength to understand
whatever it is you think you encountered."

Scully nodded, fighting more tears, and followed
her mother into the chapel.

Hallway
night

This time he knew exactly where he was because he
walked there himself.  Diana's apartment door stood
in front of him.  He knew what he had to do, he just
wondered if he had the guts to do it.  Finally,
drawing in a deep breath, he knocked three times.

It took a few seconds for her to come to the door.  
He thought he heard voices, but it could have been
the television.  When the door finally opened, she
stood before him dressed in a simple v-neck sweater
and slacks.  Her hair was down around her
shoulders and she looked as pretty as she had the
first day they'd met.

"Fox!  What a surprise.  Come in," she greeted him
with a bright smile.  "I didn't expect to see you
tonight."

"Diana, we have to talk," Mulder said by way of
introduction and deftly avoided the kiss on the
cheek Diana tried to give him.

"Sure," she said hesitantly.  "Come in and sit down.  
Would you like something to drink?  I have iced
tea, or there might be a couple of beers -- it's been a
while since I entertained," she said with a playful
wink.

"Nothing, thank you.  Could we just sit down?" he
asked.  His stomach was in knots and his head was
hurting.  Tension, he knew it was all tension, but it
didn't stop the pain.  "Please?"

"Certainly," she said and concern lit up her features.  
"Fox, are you all right?  You look pale."  She took
his arm to escort him to the sofa, but he veered
away from her and took a seat on a chair instead.  
"What is it?  What's wrong?"

"Diana, why did you come back from Europe?" he
asked bluntly, his expression cool and steady.  Get
the facts, just get the facts, he kept repeating in his
head.

"Why, I told you, Fox.  There were things back
home I needed to attend," she said cryptically and
dropped her head so that her hair covered her face.  
She looked up at him through the shield of her hair.  
"Quite frankly, you were back here."

Mulder nodded, but looking at her, he saw
everything clearly.  It wasn't the look of a lost love
he was seeing.  For the first time, it was the look of
deception.

"Really?" he asked, his voice taking an edge.  "Five
years, not even a note, not a card at Christmas.  I'd
pretty much figured you'd written us off years ago.  
But all of a sudden, when I come so close to finding
the key to everything in the X files, you show up."

"The X files were once mine, too, Fox.  Don't forget
that," she interjected.

"No, Diana, no.  I'll admit you were there for me
when I first found them, but aside from 'helping' me
on a few occasions, you made it abundantly clear
that your interests were elsewhere."

"My interest was in you," she replied, reaching
across the few feet of space that separated him to
grasp his hand.  He allowed it, for a moment.

"We agreed -- "

"No, Fox.  You dictated.  That morning, after we'd
spent the night together, you woke up in a panic.  I
knew that if I didn't go along with you, I would lose
you forever.  So you dictated and I acquiesced to
your demands.  You said it was a mistake, and you
were probably correct.  It was too early in the
relationship for us to -- "

"Diana, you never loved me," he said, cutting her
off.  

Her head shot up and her eyes took on a tortured
grimace.  "How can you say that?" she asked, her
voice cracking.

"Because it was a job.  Your job.  There was a time
that I wouldn't have believed it, but I know a lot
more now.  And I know that they were watching
me, have watched me since I was a kid.  You were
sent to make sure I stayed off the right path, that I
was dangled just enough bait to satisfy their needs,
but never enough to satisfy my own.  But you
screwed up, you got 'too' involved with your work,"
he sneered.  "And they sent you away and found
someone else, a harder nut to crack."

Her face was a mask of confusion.  "What are you
talking about?  Who are you talking about?  Fox,
there wasn't anyone.  We met -- don't you
remember?  We met shortly after you got out of the
Academy -- "

"Oh, yes, Diana.  And a very wise man once told
me the best place to hide the truth is between two
lies.  Yes, we met, but it wasn't entirely by accident.  
You came up to me in the cafeteria.  You asked me
about a case you had.  It was all planned, from the
very beginning.  You played me for a fool, Diana.  
Did you laugh about it later?  Did you congratulate
yourself on how easy it was to sucker in the poor
sex-starved sap?  I bet you really had a field day
over my 'panic' -- as you call it.  You didn't falter
one step.  You just waited until the hook was set to
reel me in!"

The slap was a surprise, but a welcomed one.  It
meant he was getting somewhere.

"How dare you come into my home and accuse me
of those things!" she shouted.

He smiled.  She'd just echoed his mother's words.  
More words of deception.  She wasn't denying the
accusations, she was just angry they had been made.

He heard a noise in the back of the apartment.  
Someone was back there.  He stood up and she
followed, tugging at his arm.

"Fox, please, let's talk about this.  I don't know
where you got these crazy ideas.  You have to know
I would never lie to you!  I love you, Fox, I have
always loved you!  Can't you see that?  I want to
help you -- I would be more helpful than she's been
with her science and her logic."  Her voice had
taken on a shrill quality that he found particularly
annoying.

"Don't talk about Scully," he growled, but he didn't
let her deter him from the closed door at the end of
the hall.  Finally, he was there and he grasped the
doorknob and opened it.

Light spilled into the darkened room, illuminating it
just enough to reveal the bed.  Someone was lying
on the bed and that person turned to face the two
people standing in the doorway.

"Diana, you didn't tell me tonight was threesome
night," a gleeful Smoking Man said from his
position on the bed.  Only a sheet covered him to
his bare chest.  "But I must warn you, I think this
might constitute incest -- at least as far as Fox is
concerned."

Mulder spun on his heel and stalked to the front
door.  Diana grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him
back.  He shook her off angrily.

"Fox, wait, it's not what you think," Diana begged,
tears streaming down her face.

"Not this time, Diana.  I won't listen to your lies
anymore," he said defiantly.

"Where are you going?  You're going back to her,
aren't you?" Diana accused.

As he grasped the doorknob he stopped and looked
at his former friend.  "That's the one thing you and
Scully never understood.  I'm not going _back_ to
her.  I never left her.  Nothing you did made me
want to leave what I have with her.  It's about time
you figured that out."  As he strode purposefully
down the hall, he muttered to himself "and now it's
time to make sure Scully understands that, too."

Georgetown Memorial
6:54 pm

Scully sat in the recliner, dosing lightly.  Maggie
had come up and sat with Mulder long enough for
Scully to grab a shower in the doctors' lounge and
change into some scrubs.  When her mother left for
home, she'd made Scully promise to eat again at
dinnertime and to call if there was any change.

Mulder had slept through it all.  At least his
temperature showed he was finally responding to
the antibiotic cocktail.  It was down to a respectable
100.  Scully had been thrilled at the news.  It gave
her the peace of mind to allow her body to find rest.  
But even as she slept, she kept her hand on his arm,
anchoring him to her.

The sound was soft, not more than a moan, but she
could hear her name.  She pulled herself from her
sleep and looked closely at her partner.  He was
calling for her, but it wasn't as urgent or as frantic
as it had been during the night.  This time it was
almost as if he was just trying to catch her attention
at the office or at a crime scene.  She smiled and sat
forward, moving her hand from his arm to his
forehead, stroking along the edge of the bandage
that encircled his head.

"Mulder.  I'm right here.  Wake up.  See, I'm right
here," she coaxed.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.  She'd anticipated his
sensitivity to light and had turned down the
overheads after the last vitals check.  He blinked
sleepily and smiled at her, working his throat a time
or two.  She saw that as his signal that he was
thirsty and offered him a cup of water, holding the
straw to his lips so he wouldn't have to move his
neck too much.

"Thanks," he rasped hoarsely.  

"You're welcome," she replied with a smile.  
"How's your head?"

He thought a while, moving his hand to rub against
the bandage.  "Sore.  Neck is still sore, but not as
bad."

She nodded and smiled again.  "You've had quite a
ride.  Maybe it's time to just get better now, huh?"

"Yeah, I think you're right," he agreed readily.  
"What day is it?"

"November 18th," she told him, watching his
reaction.

"Professor Merkmillan was reported missing -- "

"November first.  Skinner called us in on November
second," she reminded him.

"How long have I been here?" he asked tiredly.

"All total, just shy of two weeks."

He frowned shook his head slightly, wincing at the
action.  "I missed the premiere of Saturday Night
Live," he groused.

"I'm sure it will be repeated this summer, Mulder.  
If not on  Comedy Central within a year.  You didn't
miss much."

"I missed what you discovered," he said, taking her
hand.  "I heard you, Scully.  Asking me to hang on.  
I wanted to let you know that I understood but -- "

She squeezed his fingers.  "I'm just glad you
listened.  For once."

"I do listen, more than you know.  Scully, I need to
clear something up that's been hanging between us
now for too long.  Diana -- what you've tried to tell
me -- "

"Mulder," she said, putting a finger to his lips.  
"Mulder please, I don't want to argue.  You aren't in
any shape -- "

He moved her finger but didn't let go of her hand.  
"Scully, I believe you.  I believe what you were
trying to tell me at the Gunmen's.  I know she's
dirty.  She was . . . she is working with . . . him."

"Oh, Mulder," she sighed.  "We don't have to talk
about this now -- you need to rest.  You're still quite
sick and I don't want to risk a relapse -- "

"Scully, please, just listen to me and then I'll go
back to sleep.  I can barely keep my eyes open but I
want to tell you this."  He waited until she nodded
to continue.  "Scully, all those times you thought I
was taking Diana's side over yours -- I wasn't.  Not
really.  I know it looked that way, but every time I
did check on what you told me, I did look at the
evidence.  I just . . . it just took me a long time to
figure out that I had been fooled."

"Mulder, I'm sorry.  I knew you and Diana were
close and to be perfectly honest, I was . . . I was
jealous of what you had with her."

Mulder smiled and brought her hand to his lips
where he gently placed a kiss on her knuckles.  
"Scully, you were the last person who should have
felt jealous."  He closed his eyes and she thought he
was drifting off to sleep but he tugged on her hand.  
"So tell me, what did you find in Africa?"

She smiled then, reaching up to stroke his forehead.  
"Mulder, I want to tell you everything.  But for
now, we both need to sleep."

"OK, but when we wake up?"

"When we wake up, we'll talk.  I promise."

the end.