March 2020

Scully tried not to laugh as she held Faith and watched Mulder struggle to put her car seat into the rental car they were picking up, after his car overheated and they discovered the radiator would need to be replaced.

The steam coming from his car as they were heading home, still miles away, had led to waiting on a tow truck, the warm spring day feeling even warmer as they waited in the non running car. When the man arrived, he had smiled at Faith, who was intrigued with the big truck and flashing lights. Discovering it was not a simple overheating, but a broken radiator, Mulder had sworn and shook his head.

The driver kindly took them to the nearby rental agency before heading to the dealership, their warranty still thankfully covering the repair. Scully and Faith waited outside as Mulder picked out the car, petting the big furry cat who had been laying in a patch of sun when they arrived.

He pushed at Faith's hand, purring loudly, wrapping around her legs, and then falling to the ground and rolling on his back. She laughed as she bent down and touched his fluffy belly. He jumped up, pushing his head into her chin, and rubbing against her face.

"Cat," she said and Scully grinned as a new word was added to her vocabulary.

"Yes, baby girl, it's a cat."

Mulder walked out, scaring the cat and causing it to run across the parking lot. Faith attempted to chase it, and Scully stopped her, picking her up and kissing her cheeks.

"Cat," she said, pointing toward the cat who was now licking his front paw.

"Whoa… she said cat!" Mulder grinned and blew a raspberry on Faith's cheek, causing her to laugh and momentarily forget about the cat.

They walked to the car and now they stood waiting for him to put the seat in, which was a battle he seemed to be losing.

"I swear to God," he muttered loudly. "This car doesn't have the hooks for the buckles. How are we supposed… no wait, I found them. Fucking hell…"

"Hey," she called out to him with a laugh. Glancing down at Faith, she nodded as he looked up.

"As if she can understand me," he replied, with a roll of his eyes.

"She said cat a few minutes ago and she said S-H-I-T the other day so… you're wrong," Scully said, raising her eyebrows at him.

"She did not. Stop saying that she did." He shook his head and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Sure sounded like it to me," she retorted and he laughed.

"Maybe you should get your hearing checked. You know, especially as you've recently had a birthday, as we age…"

"Oh, buddy, you're gonna want to stop right there," she said, putting up a hand and shaking her head. He grinned and she glared at him. "Your daddy is skating on very thin ice, my girl." She held her stare as she spoke to Faith and he laughed as she shook her head again. "Put the car seat in the car so we can get some lunch. Your ladies are getting hungry."

Turning around with a grin, he finally set the seat in the car securely, and came to grab the backpack and place it in the car. Kissing Faith, Scully handed her to Mulder. He nuzzled her neck, causing her to laugh, before he put her in her car seat and shut the door.

"Let's get going, old lady," he teased, looking at her with a grin as he opened the drivers side door.

She cupped a hand around her ear and turned her head to the side. "What was that? I'm having a hard time hearing you." She closed her hand, leaving only her middle finger up, and he laughed.

"Get your ass in the car," he said, gesturing with his head to the passenger side.

She smiled and walked over, getting in and taking a deep breath, the scent of rental cars never seeming to change. It was a mixture of faux new car smell, greasy meals, and old cologne and perfumes. An odd combination and others may find it overwhelming or perhaps not even notice, but to her it was a familiar scent and one she found oddly comforting.

He looked at her as he started the car, giving her a wink. Suddenly, she saw him on their first case: younger, no gray hair at his temples, the lines in his face far less prominent. His eager excitement as he continuously cracked open sunflower seeds, something she had found cute and charming, was nearly palpable.

She saw him staring at her and laughing, or rolling his eyes at something she disagreed with, as he tried to prove his point. The concentration that went into reading a huge fold out map, no smart phones with fancy apps available back then to help them find their way.

She smiled as they backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, the wind from the open windows blowing cooling air inside the car, as Faith babbled in the backseat. She laughed softly as she looked out the window and shook her head. Her mind drifted through her memories, thinking back on the many miles they traveled together, learning about each other in cars similar to the one they were now driving down the road.

That first case… so green and without any field experience, she did not know what to expect, but it was definitely not someone like him...

He filled the silence in the car, chatting about everything. It was very different from any other man she had traveled with in the past. Jack usually had a topic planned ahead of time, thus the car ride was spent wisely, as he used to say. Ethan liked listening to classical music and for the short time they were together, she heard more Bach and Beethoven than she ever wanted to hear again.

But Mulder, though not her boyfriend, thus not an entirely accurate comparison, loved to discuss anything and everything. Conspiracy theories, current events, old cases, places they each had been, childhood fears, nothing was off topic. She learned more about him than anyone she had ever known in her life, including her family members.

He was brilliant, his mind absorbing and retaining knowledge in a way she had never seen. He could call up baseball statistics, a case from years ago, addresses, and telephone numbers. He knew her senior thesis by heart, which he rattled off at the strangest of times, never ceasing to amaze her that he knew it so well.

He knew so much, about so much, it led to conversations that sometimes left her head spinning. After a while she learned to simply nod and stop listening to what he had to say, finding it to be the best way to handle the nonstop chatter.

It had, of course, backfired on her as he would bring it up later and at her blank stare, he would sigh and pout with that big bottom lip sticking out, before explaining it all over again. She enjoyed those times, though it was a repeat of what he had already said, his excitement over a topic evident as he rambled and paced around the motel room.

When he would leave, his mouth finally running out of words to say, she would lie down in bed, wondering if it was normal to go to sleep with the thought of that bottom lip jutting out and those puppy eyes staring at her. He was her partner for God's sake, and yet his eyes and that lip taunted her.

They would take turns driving of course, neither of them able to stay awake for hours and hours on end; the towns they visited were sometimes far from commercial airports. The first time he commented about her struggle to adjust the seat, his six foot frame needing more space than her smaller one, her angry eyes quickly shut him up. He never mentioned it the same way again but she saw his grin, his smirk, as she pulled the seat forward and adjusted the back.

He got his comeuppance though and it always made her laugh. When he forgot about the fact that she had driven last, he would attempt to sit down in a seat that was far too close. His head would hit the roof of the car, his knees hitting the steering wheel, as curse fell from his lips. Covering her laugh with a cough, he would curse again as he moved the seat back.

When she was the driver, he was able to read and most often would share the information with her. Sometimes it was about the case, but other times it was about a book he had read, or an article he found interesting in the paper. As he tended to drone on at times, his words tumbling over themselves, his voice becoming louder in his excitement, she would call for the agreed upon ten minutes of silence.

One night when they had been upset, angry, and extremely tired, they agreed that if silence was called for, the other had to adhere to the request for at least ten minutes. Oftentimes, the other person would agree without any problems, but some days he was not so acquiescent.

If he had a topic he was dying to discuss and she had called for silence, he would check his watch, making sure he would know when the allotted time would be up. With him not talking, sometimes the pressing quiet in the car would then become too much. Turning on public radio, she would breathe a sigh of relief, finding it refreshing to have something else to focus on besides the silence or the topic of his choosing.

When the radio was on, they would generally both become engrossed in the story they heard, forgetting why the call for silence had been asked for in the first place. In those occurrences, the ten minute call for silence would have long since passed as the show ended. A lively discussion would then take place over what they had just heard, the miles rumbling beneath them and carrying them forward.

When she became ill, she noticed a change in him. He was quiet, especially when they drove, their lively discussions halted, as if he did not want to disturb her, or cause any undue problems. She felt how he withheld things from her at times, his frustration or his anger, and she hated it. Hated being treated differently because she had a disease inside of her.

She was tired after the treatments, sometimes for just a bit and other times for days after. She fell asleep in the office a couple of times, his hand laid gently on her shoulder waking her up, his eyes sad and concerned. She pushed away from him, away from those sad hazel eyes, walking down the hall to the restroom, where she allowed herself a cry before splashing cold water on her face.

In a meeting, she had dozed off, and he ever so slightly touched her arm and whispered her name, letting her know that she had fallen asleep without any other words spoken. Her cheeks flushed but she was unable to rush out of the room like she had in the office. He kept his eyes straight ahead, but she knew exactly how they would look at her if he turned his head. Broken and scared; exactly how she felt.

After those times, he began to drive more often when they were out of town. No discussion had between them, he simply took over the lion's share of what they were doing. She tried to stay awake and be the navigator as she always had been, but she failed. He never said a word, instead he turned the radio on low or remained silent, allowing her to sleep, knowing she was exhausted, but would not discuss it.

With a general knowledge of how long it would take for them to get from point A to point B, some days when she was nauseous and had a hard time not vomiting, she would feel the car slowing and the drive taking longer, in order to allow her to be her when she arrived to work on the case.

There were small plastic trash bags in his suitcases which he placed in the glove box of any rental car they used, along with packs of tissues. Just in case, he would say, not meeting her eyes, closing the glove box softly. While a part of her wanted to scream that she could take care of herself, that she did not need his help, she knew that it was not true. Not always.

He carried gum and mints in his pockets, silently handing them to her after she had thrown up either outside the car door or into one of the plastic bags he so thoughtfully packed. He always took one for himself, thus making it seem as though only she needed it. His caring both annoyed and meant the world to her.

On one of the rare nights she did drive, he made a comment about switching places as she looked tired, and she snapped. She did not need his worry, his attempt to hold her back, she would not stop driving or working for that matter, even if he felt she should. He said nothing, letting her yell and release her frustration, something that had been building for a while she realized, as she ran out of steam and finally fell silent.

Turning her head to look at him, she found him staring at her, his eyes hurt and sad. He said nothing, and she knew she had gone too far. He had been nothing but supportive since it had all happened, and while she did not like the feeling of not being in control and at times, less than, she appreciated the little things he did.

Feeling like shit, but unable and unwilling to apologize, she kept her eyes on the road, the motel not far away. When they pulled in, he stopped her from leaving the car with a hand on hers as she unbuckled her seatbelt. He stared at her, trying to say words, but failing to articulate them.

"I need to be here, Mulder," she whispered, squeezing his hand and dropping her eyes. He squeezed back with a nod.

After that moment, she was more accepting, if that was how it could be described, of his help and care. He never said it, but his eyes watching her and the silent things he did, were not unnoticed.

Scully shook her head, tears in her eyes, as she looked out the window. What a different time it had been, and how different they had been. She released her breath and in the silence of the car, Faith most likely sleeping in her car seat, she thought again of days spent with him in cars similar to the one they were in now…

They sat together in traffic jams, through heated discussions about whatever came to mind. Times when silence was heavy and filled with worry or times when it was light and welcome. There were times when they laughed, both of them overly tired with miles to go before they reach their destination.

Days of worn out bodies, exhausted injury, standing beside the rental attendant explaining the mess in their car. Being yelled at by Skinner or Kersh, over the complaints from the rental companies.

There were days when the weather was freezing but the heater did not work and his coat was offered to her as she shivered. Then there were days when the heat was unbearable and the air conditioner was on the fritz. His coat was not needed then, nor was her own as she stripped it off and threw it in the backseat along with her dress shirt sometimes, sitting in the car in just a lazy camisole, causing him to swallow hard.

There were places where the rain came down so hard, they had to nearly yell to be heard above it. Or decide when to make a run for it as the lack of umbrellas would lead to wet clothes if they were not fast enough. Then the days came when wet clothes were welcome, as it led to stripping and warming each other up.

They traveled many miles together and along those miles and bumpy roads, she fell in love with him. In cafés, diners, interrogation rooms, watching him with children, how he spoke to women, his kindness and care in his voice. All those places, she fell in love with him, but nowhere so much as in those stuffy and often smelly rental cars as they drove all over the country.

Back roads, highways, interstates, surface streets, his voice singing along with the radio, droning on about his theories, or softly telling her of his worry for her, simple words that spoke volumes.

Within the confines of the four doors, they learned the give-and-take that became the corner stone of the partnership. Respect, admiration, and understanding traveled with them, the car there touchdown, their way to re-center when everything around them was chaotic…

"Hey, Scully?" Molders voice said, breaking into her thoughts. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Anywhere is fine," she said, wiping at her eyes discretely, though her tears were happier than before.

"Italian?"

"Anything." She answered, looking at him with a smile, reaching for his hand and locked their fingers together giving it a squeeze. He turned his head to look at her and gave her a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied with a smile of her own. "Nothing at all." He smiled, his eyes back on the road and she saw again, the young excitable agent, out to save the world.

Closing her eyes, she saw through the years, all the different versions of him, and she smiled, happy to have known each of them

Opening her eyes, she looked at him as he was now, the best version of himself; still him, yet older and wiser.

"Still gonna tell me it's 'nothing' with the way you're staring at me?" he teased, squeezing her hand.

"Yup," she said, smiling as he looked at her, his eyes happy. He laughed and nodded with a sigh. "Just keep driving."

"Yes ma'am," he said, raising her fingers to his lips for a kiss, as he stepped on the gas, going wherever the road took them.