"This is about all about sex, isn't it, Mulder." Dana Scully cocked her head with a challenging gaze toward her partner. Fox Mulder pressed the "return" button and the machinery hummed to life. Scully folded her arms and pursed her lips impatiently. Mulder slipped his protective headphones around his neck and cupped a hand over one ear. "What was that, Scully? I didn't hear you." Scully's fingers drummed along her arm and a smirk creeped to her lips. "You heard me, Mulder," she goaded. "Tell me it isn't true." "Now Scully, you know that sex is probably the cornerstone of the human psyche..." Mulder could see he wasn't going to be able to get out of this one with scientific double-talk. "Okay, yes! It is about sex. There, I've said it," Mulder threw up his hands in defeat, "most likely to the detriment of males everywhere." "Ah ha! I knew it!" Scully smiled in triumph, eagerly leaping upon Mulder's reluctant admission. "Please, enlighten this lowly female of the species as to why she can't like the San Diego Chargers." "Scully, women are just not meant to watch football..." Mulder noted with alarm the look of simmering anger generating behind those sharp blue eyes, and hastily continued, "it's simple; women have more synaptic connections between the right and left sides of the brain." "What does that have to do with it?!" Scully retorted, aghast at the sexist tripe her partner was dishing out. "These added connections make women more sensitive, more insightful," Mulder wondered briefly if Scully would attempt to connect with his face or simply pummel his solar plexus, or even more frightening, that her gun was still loaded, "and way too intelligent to sit around swilling beer and watch grown men butt heads for a living." Mulder watched with relief that Scully realized that he was attempting to gracefully diffuse their disagreement and the anger drained out of her face. Scully reached for her target sheet and replied wryly, "So what does it mean when a woman actually likes to watch the occassional game and swill some beers?" Mulder reached for his returned target as well, "Like you said, it's all about sex. You know, those burly bodies, those tight, shiny pants...sometimes it can override even the most stalwart of individuals." Scully laughed, her teeth flashing; Mulder was glad to see her so at ease- she hadn't been for quite some time. "Okay, but that's not the only reason I watch..." Mulder shook his head as he re-loaded his weapon. "Oh no. It's all about sexual urges...people these days need constant stimulus." He placed his 'phones back over his ears and took aim. "Admit it, Scully, sex is the dominant form of motivation and entertainment in our society..." "For some of us more than others," Scully replied pointedly. Her answer was a barage of distracted gunfire. She smiled wickedly. Mulder quickly regained his composure as he hit the "return" button once again. "Give me three good reasons why you like the Chargers." "My high school colors were blue and gold, Humphries is very...physically fit, and I can't help but root for an underdog." Mulder sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Women. I rest my case. At least you didn't say 'they have cute outfits.'" "Now that you mention it, Mulder..." Scully replied teasingly. "So, are we still on for Pete's?" "Only if we get around to finishing this training session, Agent Scully." Scully stared at Mulder's latest target sheet and pointed at a bullet hole a few inches away from a cluster of it's brethren. "My, my, Agent Mulder, looks like you're the one who needs the training." Scully held up her own target sheet, boasting a neat cluster of holes in the head of the black silhouette. Mulder smiled at the competitive spark he saw in his partner's eyes and held up his gun in a mock show of bravado. "Oh yeah? Just remember- I have the bigger gun." Scully rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket for a new clip, unsuccessfully hiding her wide smile. She murmured under her breath, "Biggger gun, huh, Mulder? I guess it is all about sex..." Mulder turned and looked at her sharply, Scully returning his gaze with wide, innocent eyes. "You are absolutely right, Mulder, absolutely." Mulder couldn't imagine what his face looked like at the moment, but judging from Scully's reaction, it was quite amusing. After a minute she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and replaced her safety glasses, looking apologetically at a sheepish Mulder. "Come on, let's do another round. Worst percentage buys, okay?" "You're on." Scully and Mulder were the only two agents down in the firing range, understandable since it was early on a Sunday morning. Upon her release from the hospital, the Bureau had ordered that Scully undergo a battery of tests before being re-instated as an agent, and Scully had decided to be as prepared as possible. Mulder had volunteered to help her prepare even though he himself wondered if she was ready to return to active duty. Her wit was as sharp as ever, but Mulder couldn't help but notice how pale and fragile she still seemed...and the toll of the abduction on her body was most likely nothing compared to the impact on her mind. Naturally Mulder was more than happy to have his partner back in his life- he had missed her presence more than he liked to admit. Still, it seemed he worried more about her now that she was out of the hospital than when she was in it. He tried hard to shelter her, and she was acutely aware of it; it was only a matter of time, Mulder knew, before he'd get scolded for being a mother hen. But he couldn't help it; for the first time in his life, he had someone who needed *his* support, instead of the other way around. Great, he thought, the walking wounded. He glanced over to the next booth and what he saw there made him pause, a chill going up and down his spine; Scully's pleasant features were twisted into a snarl, her ruby lips curling and revealing clenched teeth. Mulder felt himself jump as the report from Scully's weapon blasted in rapid succession. He looked away quickly, fumbling with the empty cartridge from his gun. "Mulder, what's wrong?" "Wha..? Oh, Scully, nothing." Scully gave Mulder a puzzled double-take before sliding back the bolt on her gun with a clack. She was back- calm, cool, collected. There was no fooling him, however; he had seen the undiluted hatred, the look of pain and hurt, burning deeply in her eyes. Mulder didn't bother going home to change before arriving at Pete's Sports Bar. He expected Scully to still be in her suit as well, but apparantly he had miscalculated. After wading through the smoky entrance, he spotted her sitting at the bar in running pants, t-shirt, and hooded zip-front sweatshirt. He almost didn't recognize her, except for the tell-tale auburn ponytail which jutted out through the vent in her baseball hat. He slid onto the barstool next to her and she turned, looking down her nose at him from under her cap. "Mulder, you're late. The game's already started." "Sorry," Mulder motioned to the bartender for a beer. Scully already had a bottle clutched in her hand. "You're really into this, aren't you?" "I told you I knew the difference between a touchdown and a home run," Scully waved a greeting to an unknown group of questionable-looking individuals seated in a corner. Mulder downed a gulp of his beer. "I'm more of a slam-dunk person myself." "Did you come straight from the office?" Scully eyed Mulder's crumpled-looking suit. "I've been down in the archives, catching up on my reading. What about you?" "Had a short run. Excuse me if I offend." "You're excused. I often offend." Scully grinned at him and he reached up to loosen his tie. The beer bottle almost made it to his lips before a collective roar went up and Scully jostled his elbow as she put up her arms in excitement and whooped with enthusiasm. "How many drinks have you had?" "Come on, Mulder, they just scored." "Really, Scully," he was more than serious, "how many?" Scully's lips pursed in annoyance and the merriment left her eyes. "Just this one." She picked up her bottle and took a sip. "Please, Mulder; we're not at the office." Mulder looked at Scully, who suddenly had a drained, tired look on her face. "Sure. Sure, I'm sorry." Scully patted his arm in thanks and turned back to the grainy television. Mulder took another swig of his drink, amused, annoyed, and depressed all at the same time. He had never seen Scully act this way before, but then again, he never really saw Scully outside of work. He kind of liked it. And he really hated it. Shaking his head, he ordered another beer and decided he'd root for the Chargers. "Need a ride?" his breath made a cloud in the chilly night air. "Nope, thanks. Walking." Scully zipped up her jacket and turned to proceed down the block. "Wait a minute. I'll walk with you." Scully heaved a sigh, the swirl of vapors emphasizing her displeasure. "Mulder..." He fell into step beside her, drawing up his coat collar and jamming his hands into his pockets. "Fine." They walked in silence for the first block, the sounds of their feet moving across the pavement loud and clear in the night air. They stopped at a traffic signal, Scully pulling off her hat and shaking out her ponytail before sliding on her hood, shielding her face from him. "How 'bout them Chargers?" Mulder ventured, keeping his tone as casual as possible. Scully only turned and smiled at him slightly. "Nervous?" "About tomorrow?" They began crossing the street at the signal change. "No, not particularily." "You'll have no problem," he reassured. "Yeah." "Will I see you before?" "No, I think I'll go straight to the range and squeeze off a few extra practice rounds before the trial." "I'll take you to lunch afterwards." "Am I buying?" Mulder turned and regarded her, his feeling of concern unmistakable. "No, Dana, this one's on me." Scully raised a surprised eyebrow at his words. He was so damn tired of playing these games. They trotted up the few steps to the entrance to her apartment complex. "Good luck." "Thanks, Mulder." Scully paused, watching Mulder shivering without his trenchcoat. "You want to come in for a minute? Have a cup of coffee, you look like you're turning into a human popsicle." "N-no. Thanks. I think I better get back before my hubcaps go missing. There's only so many times I can say that aliens took them." Mulder smiled lopsidedly and Scully laughed under her breath, giving him a small wave before dashing into the warmth of her flat. Mulder quickened his steps in an attempt to warm up, unable to shake the feeling that he actually wanted Scully to not pass her exams the next morning. Feeling traitorous and very, very, cold, Mulder broke into a run. Scully poured herself a cup of tea to help clear her fuzzy brain, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room. She wondered absently if Mulder thought she was coming onto him just then at the door, and thus refused to take a minute inside. Their night at Pete's was probably the closest thing to a date they had ever done. After those first initial awkward minutes, Mulder had loosened up and enjoyed himself. She had really had a fun time. They had even made plans to go to the opening Knicks game; Mulder had made her promise. She wandered out of her kitchen, easing onto her couch. She hadn't thought about her and Mulder for quite some time now. Well, that wasn't quite true. She had already sorted through the emotions she felt upon seeing him at her bedside, the absolute faithfulness he had given her. It had made her realize that they had grown very comfortable with each other. What if Mulder got a girlfriend? How would that change their relationship? Scully couldn't imagine it happening. Why not, she couldn't say. What if they started dating? Scully knew now that she must be exhausted. There were times, early on, that she had considered the possibility. But there were also times where she considered every male within a ten-mile radius as a possibility; it was only natural, for a single, intelligent, moderately attractive woman to keep her options open, to consider. And yet, here she was, alone. And the remarkable thing was, she didn't mind in the least. So there wasn't the physical aspect of a relationship- the touching, the contact. But she certainly hadn't spontaneously combusted into a puff of smoke because of it. Rather, she was being satisfied elsewhere in her life- with Mulder. He was a good friend and a terrible flirt. And he also was fascinating, intelligent, and sincere. She loved him very much, and wondered if he felt the same. Often she felt he did. "It's all about sex..." She imagined herself and Mulder, in a passionate embrace; it wasn't hard to picture. If it was to happen, it would, naturally. But really, their relationship was already so much more. So she thought again about the idea of Mulder with another woman. She'd be jealous, but she'd accept it if it made Mulder happy. Still, she couldn't see it happening. It wouldn't feel right. Scully stood and moved to her liquor cabinet. She fingered the bottle of burbon, wondering if she'd have the dreams again that night, when she needed her sleep. She turned away from the cabinet quickly, sucking in a sharp breath. What would Mulder think of her like this? Dana made her way down the narrow hallway, relishing the idea of drowning out her tears with the splatter of hot running water. Mulder climbed onto his couch, wishing he hadn't had that last beer. Just the thought of he and Dana sitting in a bar, carousing, complete with beer and pretzels, made him want to retch. It was so...inexplicably different...but also so unexplainably right. He liked her; no, he knew, he loved her. A deep, complex love, one that he didn't mind letting run it's course, perhaps to no conclusion, because it was always fraught with surprises. She trusted him; but more importantly, she loved him. He could see it in her eyes, when the light was right. And why, he mused, didn't he do anything about it? He could see his body easily responding to hers; had, on occasion, imagined them wrapped in a romantic entanglement or two. To do something about it would be effortless...but, for some reason, to do nothing about it was equally as easy. Just as long as they remained together. Mulder sighed, turning over on the narrow couch, trying to get comfortable. It was a damned X-File, that's what it was. After fishing around for a moment, the pea in his bed came out crumpled from the crack in the couch cushion. Mulder unfolded the piece of paper, squinting at it in the dimly lit room. It was a 776 form, a request to place a file with a case letter "X". He had only half-completed this one, having stopped at the blank where he had managed to write "Dana K. Sc..." and had stopped. Crumpling up the form in his hands, Mulder three-pointed it into his garbage can without even getting up from his couch. Dana never made it to the firing range early that morning. When she had driven into the garage, there had been a message waiting for her. Skinner smiled warmly at her from behind his desk. Mulder had told her the extent of Skinner's actions during their situation, and Scully was grateful, if not wary, of this new-found ally. "Agent Scully, I've called you in this morning just to say that I support your return to the Bureau one hundred percent." "Thank you, sir." "Your trials begin this morning, do they not?" "They do." Scully wet her lips. "Early." Skinner took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes. "Off the record, Agent Scully...I think you're a very brave woman." Scully, surprised, felt a smile leap to her lips unbidden. "I'd prefer that to be on the record, sir." Skinner laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Scully hadn't really noticed before that the man before her was attractive. It amazed her how people's perspectives were twisted by circumstance. "Dana..." he paused, as if uncertain whether or not to continue on such a familiar level. Scully watched as the friendliness receded and Skinner's business tone reappeared, "You're a good agent. I'm sure you'll have no problems with re-instatement. I look forward to having you back on duty." Scully stood, nodding. "Thank you sir, very much." She gave him a warm smile and felt glad that he seemed to understand it. "Agent Scully." Dana took a deep breath after leaving Skinner's office. It was very sad, in a way. Here was a man who may have risked his career, if not his life, for her and her beliefs, and they could barely even exchange compliments. Dana wondered briefly, with amusement, what Skinner would be like if she ever got him to join her at Pete's. Checking her watch, she realized she needed to hurry if she was going to make her first exam. The trials were about to begin.