Swollen Ankles

by Tara Thorne

"So as you see here, this abrasion is simply the result of being struck with a blunt, odd-shaped object, most likely a paperweight or perhaps a ceramic figurine of some sort," Dana Scully explained, gesturing to the picture that lay in an open file.

The file was on Fox Mulder's desk, and he looked at it, uninterested.

"Figurine?" he smirked.  "Uh huh.  What the hell, this knife won't work, I'll just grab that piece of Royal Daulton!"

Scully frowned down upon him from her standing position behind his desk.

"Not everything will end up being filed under 'X', okay?"

He shrugged.  "Whatever.  Meanwhile, do you have to shove that thing in my face?"

She stepped away from him, her hands covering her stomach protectively. "It's not exactly detachable, you know."

He scowled at her.  "When do you go on maternity leave?"

She eyed him coolly.  "When my water hits this floor."

He shuddered visibly.  "It was a general question."

She shook her head.  "No, it was an ignorant question."

"So, is Papa Rat all warm and fuzzy, awaiting the birth of his ratling? Do I get to call you Mamma Rat when you come back?" Mulder asked, deliberately insulting.

"*If* I come back," she corrected him, ignoring his comments.

The smirk fell from his face.  "What do you mean?"

She stared at him incredulously.  "Mulder, you could not have made it any clearer that you don't want me here anymore.  Don't think I don't know that it was you who tried to have me drummed out of the FBI on some international offence."

"It is an international offence, to have a terrorist's baby," he replied defensively.  "I was only doing my country a favor."

She stared at him coolly.  "So why do you seem so hurt that I might not return?"

"Come on, Scully, just because you're shacked up with my biggest enemy besides Black Lung Boy and are about to produce a junior rodent doesn't mean I don't respect you as a professional," he told her.

She burst out laughing.  "A professional?  A professional what?"

He thought about that for a moment.  "Let's see…a doctor, a skeptic, a traitor…" he ticked each characterization off on his fingers.

Her eyes grew dark at 'traitor'.  "If you're going to start that again, I'm gone," she warned him, already heading towards the door.

"Actually," he added, "I think your relationship with the Commie could actually be beneficial to me."

She turned to face him, the familiar eyebrow raised.  "How?"

"Well I figure that since he's been involved with or has information regarding every conspiracy within not only the American government but all others, you can probably weasel, or should I say rat, it all out of him and maybe I can make some progress and find my sister before the world ends."

"So I'll be your contact?"

Her tone was dangerous.

He smiled up at her pleasantly.

"Yes.  Besides, I'm sure you were his."

She didn't even say a word.  Her face was expressionless as she turned away from him once more and stalked out the door, head held high.  He did not see the tears welling up in her eyes, though he could almost be sure they were there.

He silently cursed himself for the repeated torture he imposed upon her, which he had done since he had found out she was pregnant with Alex Krycek's baby.  If it had been any other man, he would have been happy for her. But not in this instance.  She deserved all she got for even thinking to *talk* to him, let alone *that*.  He shuddered again as forbidden images invaded his mind.

Dana Scully stomped down the hall to the elevator as best she could, wanting to get as far away from the cursed basement as physics would allow her.  As she was zipped up to ground level, she wondered why she had stayed this long.  There was no point, really, but she thought that since Mulder had risked so much for her she at least owed him what time she had left to give him.

But he had made it hard, she thought as she stepped through the elevator doors and into the foyer.  Little comments, not-so-little comments, dirty looks, indelicate sounds…he had made her life hell.  And for some reason that was beyond her, she had endured it without so much as a comment.

She now, as she often did, wondered why as she made her way through the parking lot to her car.  Why had she let this man, a man who had been so unforgiving, even evil when she told him about her romance with Alex, turn her life into a joke?  He had tried to get her discharged, set on the street like a bag of garbage when he found out.  The only person she had told had turned against her, and then had the nerve to call *her* a traitor!  And she had *stayed* there, in the dankness of that damned hole they called an office, working as usual towards a cause they both knew was hopeless.  She was fully aware of Mulder's need for the X-files, and although she had finally found something, some*one* else to direct her own focus towards, she had nonetheless stayed devoted to his work.  It wasn't really hers, after all, not anymore.  And even though she remained involved in something she had almost been forced out of, he still had yet to thank her for sticking with something that he knew compromised her life and her relationship.

She often thought of him as a selfish bastard, but reminded herself that he had little left, and her friendship was something he didn't even consider worth having anymore.

That fact saddened her more than he could know.

End

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