Title: What Are You Doing New Year's?
Author: ML
Email: msnsc21@aol.com (feedback is appreciated!)
Distribution: If you've archived before, feel free; otherwise, please just 
let me know. Thanks.
Spoilers: None. S7 and S8 have vanished without a trace.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Story, MSR, Angst
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance
Summary:  Mulder is overbooked for a special evening.  A response to Kimpa's 
New Year's Challenge.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.  Most of them belong to Chris 
Carter, TenThirteen, et.al.  The songs I used don't belong to me either.  
Kimpa belongs to herself.  Lola is all mine, but who would want her anyway?  
I mean no infringement, and I am making no profit from this.

What Are You Doing New Year's?
by ML

New Year's Eve was slated to be their first real date.  Oh, they'd had dinner 
together before, but only when on a case.  But something changed for Mulder 
and Scully on Christmas Eve, and this date was a sign of that change.

So why was Scully sitting alone in Kimpa's Diner just after midnight, moodily 
stirring a cold cup of coffee?

Kimpa knew better than to ask.  She brought Scully a fresh cup and kept her 
distance.

-x-x-x-x-

This Christmas had been one of the best Christmases of Scully's life, and all 
because of a missed flight to San Diego.  By rights, she should have been 
furious at Mulder for making her miss her flight for such a lame reason.  

He had been so contrite, however, offering to do anything to make up for it.  
She took him up on his offer, making him help her with Christmas decorating 
on Christmas Eve.  He'd pitched in willingly for the most part, even though 
Christmas was not a holiday he cared for much.  He and Scully had exchanged 
joke gifts in the past, and then  she'd always gone on her way for Christmas, 
spending time with her family.  Mulder seemed to prefer spending it alone.  
He'd rebuffed invitations to come to her mother's in the past.  He did 
sometimes visit his mother at Christmas time, but only because he was taking 
the time off anyway, not out of sentimentality.  If he did anything on his 
own to mark the day, he kept it to himself.

Unbeknownst to Mulder, Scully had been harboring her own little Christmas 
secret.  She hadn't minded so much missing her flight.  She had dreaded the 
thought of another holiday at Bill and Tara's after what happened the last 
time.  She held Mulder to his promise to make up for her missed Christmas 
mainly to give him a little happiness, too.  She couldn't stand the thought 
of him being alone for the holidays yet again.  Her plan worked better than 
she'd dared hope, with unexpected bonuses.

She wasn't quite sure how it started, or who started it.  They'd been having 
a little tussle over the tinsel, and somehow ended up on the couch, sharing 
kisses that melted her to the core.  After that, it didn't matter how it 
started; she was going to make sure it continued somehow.

They'd gone for a walk to look at Christmas lights and ended up in her 
neighborhood diner.  Taking a page out of Mulder's book, Scully had taken 
very opportunity to touch him, to hold his hand, telling him in her own way 
how she felt about him.  They'd held hands a lot, and kissed under the 
streetlamps.

Later, up in her apartment, Mulder told her she was his Christmas dream.  
That had started another interlude of kissing on the couch, until they had 
fallen asleep in each other's arms. 

When she woke up in his arms on Christmas morning, they picked up where they 
left off.  They hadn't gone any further than some pretty intense kissing, but 
the implication was that very soon they would.  For the time being, it was 
enough to finally know how they felt about each other.  They were content in 
each other's company, knowing that more would come in its time.  They spent 
Christmas Day together, watching "A Christmas Story" and other holiday films, 
and laughing a lot, and kissing.

The day after Christmas, Mulder left for his mother's.  It was a trip he'd 
already planned, and he saw his mother so seldom it seemed wrong to cancel, 
as much as he obviously wanted to.

Scully wouldn't let him cancel.  She drove him to the airport and waited with 
him at the gate. "I've got plenty to keep me occupied while you're gone," she 
told him.  We've waited this long, we can stand a separation of a couple of 
days."  She kissed him, a kiss of promise.  "I'll miss you," she added.

His eyes told her what that meant to him.  He hesitated a moment before 
saying, "It'll be New Year's Eve when I get back."  He seemed suddenly a 
little shy.  "Would you go out with me on New Year's Eve?"

"Do you mean a real *date*?"  The word sounded foreign to her ears.

"Yeah.  Let's go out on a real date," he said, suddenly enthusiastic.  "Get 
yourself a pretty dress and we'll do the town.  Okay?"

Scully smiled.  "Okay."  She would have been happy just to spend the evening 
with him, watching a video and eating popcorn, but his idea was better.  
"Where are you going to take me?"

"Oh, how `bout Twenty-Eight?" he asked casually.

`Twenty-Eight' was one of the most elegant small restaurants in the city.  
She wondered what strings he'd pulled to get a reservation there at the last 
minute. 

"Speak to me, Scully.  Is that okay?"  Mulder's voice held a touch of 
amusement and the edge of his mouth quirked up.  "Have I impressed you?"

"I'll be impressed," she said, "when we arrive there and I find out that you 
really *do* have a reservation and we aren't just driving by on our way to 
I-Hop.  I just can't believe you were able to get a reservation on such short 
notice.  Who'd you have to grease to get it?"

"Ooh, Scully, you wound me, but I like it."  He really looked amused now.  
"What makes you think I waited until the last minute?  Maybe I've had a 
reservation for a while.  Maybe," he said in a low voice, pulling on her coat 
lapels to bring her closer to him, "it's just that I got the Christmas 
present I hoped for, but didn't expect."

His mouth was a whisper away from hers.  If they weren't in such a public 
place, she would have shown him just how his words affected her.

Mulder had no such qualms.  He moved his hands to her shoulders and his lips 
to hers for a long kiss.  The sights and sounds of the airport terminal 
melted away as her world became nothing more than the taste and feel of 
Mulder's mouth on hers.

The final call for Mulder's flight brought them out of their little world 
inhabited by two.  Mulder placed a few more gentle kisses on the corners of 
her mouth, squeezed her hand, and turned toward the gate.

"Oh, and Scully?"  He turned back and looked at her again.  "Could you feed 
my fish while I'm gone?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but only for his benefit.  "Sure, Mulder."

He gave her another swift kiss and sprinted for the gate, just making the 
jetway before the attendant closed the doors.

Scully felt strangely bereft when the doors thudded shut, despite her brave 
words to Mulder.  She decided a little shopping therapy was in order.  She 
wasn't normally one to brave the crowds for the after-Christmas sales, but 
this year she had a mission.  She wanted to find a dress that would knock 
Mulder on his ass.

She spent a very happy afternoon at the mall.  So many times when she was 
shopping she would pass by the displays of beautiful dresses and she would 
look at them longingly before turning away.  She was a practical person, but 
inside her there had always been a tiny part that longed to be impractical, 
to throw caution to the winds, to wear something besides the everlasting 
black suits.  Her secret indulgence was pretty underthings, even if no one 
would see them besides her.  Now, she had a reason to show that she wasn't 
just FBI Agent Scully.  She knew that Mulder already knew that, but how often 
did he get to see that side of her?  She couldn't wait to see his face on New 
Year's Eve.

But first she had to find the dress.  She lost count of the number of dresses 
she tried and rejected.  The saleslady kept bringing her green 
ones...obviously, the woman had no imagination.  Did she think green was the 
only color a redhead should wear?  Or black, perhaps?  Scully told her in no 
uncertain terms that she wouldn't even consider a black dress.

Finally, Scully's eyes lit on one particular dress.  It was red, but not a 
clear Christmas red.  It was more the color of Merlot, and it shimmered on 
the hanger.  It had narrow straps and a draped front which just showed the 
right amount of cleavage.  The back dipped even lower, and the skirt was cut 
so that it swirled around her as she walked.  Small crystals were scattered 
here and there on the fabric.  As soon as Scully tried it on, she knew it was 
the right dress.  Even the saleslady had to admit that the color was just 
right for setting off her translucent skin.

It felt like her lucky day.  She found the perfect shoes and jewelry to 
complete the ensemble, and she left the mall feeling as though she were 
walking on air.  She could hardly wait to see the look on Mulder's face when 
he saw her in the dress.  And, if he was really, really lucky, he might get 
to see what she had on underneath too.

-x-x-x-x-

His apartment was cold and dark when she entered it, and it smelled slightly 
musty.  She turned on his desk lamp  and rummaged for his fish food.  It 
never seemed to be in the same place twice.  Once the chore was done, she 
headed back to the door, almost stepping on a small, pastel envelope lying 
just inside.  She picked it up, intending to merely place in on Mulder's 
desk, when the scent of the paper caught her.

The envelope was addressed simply to "Fox."  The flap wasn't sealed.  She 
wouldn't look at it, though.  That would be wrong.

But what if it was something important, something that required his immediate 
attention?  He would want to know about it.  She would explain when she 
called him.  Carefully, she slipped the note out of the envelope.

"Fox,

I missed you at work today!  I thought we were going to have coffee, since 
your partner wasn't around.  I stopped by to see if you're okay.  Call me, 
please?

                with love,
                me"

Something that looked suspiciously like lipstick adorned the spot below the 
signature.

Scully stood staring at the note without really seeing it for some time.  She 
carefully placed it back in the envelope and put it on Mulder's desk.  It was 
then that she saw the others, stacked neatly on the corner, banded with a 
rubber band.  All the same pastel paper, and she could see the same writing 
on the top one.  There were three more.

How long had this been going on?  Had Mulder been conducting a little office 
romance right under her nose?

She couldn't believe it.  She wouldn't believe it.  They spent so much time 
together, when would he have had time to meet anyone that she wouldn't know 
about?

And why would he want to, if what he'd said on Christmas Eve was true?

There had to be an explanation for this.  She would just have to ask Mulder 
about it.  Wouldn't she?  How could she?  He would know that she'd read this 
personal note.  Invaded his privacy.  He couldn't know that 
this...person...would drop a note by his apartment.

This latest note had to have been dropped off that day.  That meant whoever 
left it there probably wouldn't return until tomorrow.  Maybe Scully would 
just be waiting there to see who this person was leaving notes for 
Mulder...and who seemed to have the right to call him "Fox."  Other than his 
mother, and Scully's mother, the only other people who'd called him Fox in 
her hearing had been...former lovers.

She felt sick.  Another one coming out of the woodwork?  How many women were 
there in Mulder's past that she didn't know about?

She needed to be calm about this.  She needed to think about this rationally. 
She'd known Mulder for a long time now, and trusted him implicitly.  There 
*had* to be an explanation for this, one that she would find reasonable and 
acceptable.  But Mulder wasn't here to offer such an explanation right now.  
She would have to do what she could to find out more.

-x-x-x-x-

-December 27-
Scully felt a little silly, staking out Mulder's apartment on such a pretext, 
but she didn't know what else to do.  Searching through his desk at home 
wasn't an option.  She couldn't even bring herself to listen to his phone 
messages.  This wasn't a case where he'd ditched her and run off to God only 
knew what danger.  She knew exactly where he was <didn't she?>.  Maybe she 
had the right, as his partner, to snoop when he might be in some danger, but 
not for something like this.  The only slight justification she had was that 
she had to be there to feed his fish, anyway.  She could spend a little extra 
time, waiting.

She surmised that this woman was someone Mulder knew from work, or at least 
in some professional capacity, if not in the Hoover Building, then somewhere 
nearby.  Scully speculated that she would most likely leave notes for Mulder 
sometime around midday, using the excuse of running errands away from the 
office.

It occurred to Scully that if this woman worked in the same building as they 
did, she might have left notes in the office as well.  Even though she was 
officially on vacation, Scully was sure that she needed *something* from the 
office.  If this little observation proved fruitless, she'd check there.

She waited until almost two o'clock before giving up and going in to feed the 
fish.  No notes lay on the floor either inside or outside the door, or under 
the mat.  She resolutely ignored the blinking light on the answering machine, 
fed the fish, and got out.

-x-x-x-x-

It was almost as cold and musty in their basement office as it had been in 
Mulder's apartment.  Scully's thought was that Mulder was the light and heat 
of both places, then shook her head at herself.  What a soppy thing to think! 
Just because they'd kissed a couple of times was no reason to get soft.

Sure enough, there was a small pastel envelope on the floor just inside the 
office.  This one was sealed and Scully didn't attempt to open it.  She 
placed it squarely on Mulder's desk.  She was betting he'd leave his mother's 
early enough to stop by the office on the way back home.  Unless they were on 
assignment, Mulder seldom took even a full day away from the office.  She 
imagined him finding the envelope in the middle of his desk.  He was quick 
about that sort of thing; he'd know that she'd been there, and had probably 
been the one to put it there.  He would know she knew.  He would have to tell 
her.

She'd locked the office door behind her when she came in, and now she heard 
someone try the doorknob.  Resisting the urge to hide somewhere to see if 
whoever it was would try to break in, she stood her ground by Mulder's desk.

The door opened and AD Skinner stepped through it.  He started when he saw 
Scully.  She supposed his surprise made him bark, "Agent Scully, what are you 
doing here?"

"I still work here, don't I Sir?"  Scully asked with an edge to her own 
voice.  "Might I ask what you are looking for down here?  Maybe I could help 
you find it."

"Agent Mulder left a file for me on his desk," he said in a tone that sounded 
a bit defensive to her.  "I came to get it.  But aren't you supposed to be on 
vacation?"  Skinner still seemed concerned to find her there.

"Yes, sir, I am.  I just needed something from the office."  She hoped he 
wouldn't ask her what.  She didn't lie very well under the best of 
circumstances and right now her mind was perfectly blank.

"Does Agent Mulder know you're back?"  Skinner continued his rather odd line 
of questioning.

"I never left, Sir," Scully said.  "And Agent Mulder knows why."

Skinner's face changed the barest bit.  She might call it a grin, if his lips 
curled up just a bit more.  "Another haunted house, Agent Scully?"

How had he heard about that?  It had been an unofficial investigation.  She'd 
never made a report of it, anyway.  "No, but it was just as pointless," she 
said.  "I am sure Agent Mulder will give you a full report when he gets back."

"In meantime, Agent Scully, I suggest you get back to your vacation," AD 
Skinner said.  "Don't take anything from work home.  Your time away from here 
is rare enough.  Why not go take in a movie, or go shopping?"

"Thank you for your concern, Sir," Scully said, relieved that he wasn't 
questioning her any more.  "I think I'll take your advice.  Have a Happy New 
Year, Sir."

"You, too, Agent Scully," AD Skinner replied, and he waited to leave the 
office until she walked out ahead of him.  She glanced back and saw him take 
a folder off of Mulder's desk.

Scully didn't wait for Skinner to come back out of the office.  Instead, she 
took the stairs back down to the parking garage.  She sat there for some 
time, watching the few arrivals and departures as she thought.

Had she misread Mulder?  Had she taken advantage of him at a time when he was 
especially vulnerable?  Christmas was a lonely time for him.  He might have 
been desperate enough to feel that any warm body would do.  Or he might have 
thought that he was doing *her* a favor by responding to her the way he had.  
She had done the instigating.  She had encouraged him.

But they had always been honest with each other.  She didn't think he would 
say and do what he had if he hadn't meant it.  He might withhold information 
occasionally, but he never lied.  At least, not to her.

Maybe the mystery woman was an informant, and this was a way to divert 
suspicion.  Scully ran through several scenarios in her mind, grasping at 
anything even slightly plausible.  She was concentrating on this exercise so 
hard that the sound of her cell phone ringing made her jump.  She was pretty 
sure she knew who it was.

"Hey Scully, it's me."  Mulder sounded like his usual self.

She did her best to sound like her usual self.  "How's Greenwich?"

"It's cold, Scully.  In more ways than one.  I can think of places I'd rather 
be."  She could hear the leer in his voice, and it almost made her smile.

"I hope your mother can't overhear you," she admonished him.

"Naw, she's out having tea with friends," he said.

"So what are you doing, Mulder?"  she asked.

"Going over some paperwork for my mom.  That's why she wanted me up here.  
Not for a little mother-son bonding time, it's business."  He sounded 
resigned.

"Any chance you might come back sooner?"  she asked.  She didn't want to talk 
about her concerns on the phone.  She also didn't really want to bring them 
up during their date.

He chuckled down the phone line.  "Gee, Scully, do you miss me?"  He didn't 
give her a chance to answer before he added,  "I'm gonna try and get out of 
here either late on the 30th or early on the 31st.  My flight is for later on 
the 31st, but I'll try to get it changed.  I might end up having to drive."

To her newly suspicious mind, it sounded like excuses.  "I guess I'll see you 
when I see you, then," she said glumly.

"Are we still on for New Year's Eve?"  he asked.

"Yes, if you still want to," she said.

"Are you kidding?  It's all I've been thinking about," he said, and he 
sounded very sincere.  There was a silence.  "You still want to, don't you, 
Scully?"  His voice held a hint of uncertainty.

"Of course, I do," she said with as much conviction as she could muster.

Silence again for a minute.  "Okay then.  I'll pick you up at eight," he said.

For some reason, she felt like she was going to cry.  "Okay," she said.  She 
clicked the phone off before her voice gave her away.  It rang again but she 
let it go to voice mail.  When she checked it later, there was no message.

-x-x-x-x-

The next few days passed excruciatingly slowly.  Scully continued her fish 
feeding chore dutifully.  No more letters appeared under Mulder's door. She 
cleaned her apartment from top to bottom, and thought about putting away her 
Christmas decorations.  Doing this always made her a little sad, bringing 
memories of teasing her father about leaving them up all year.  This year, 
combined with the memories of Mulder helping her decorate made it a truly 
bittersweet task.  In the end, she decided to leave the tree up a little bit 
longer.  After all, they'd only put it up on Christmas Eve.

Mulder hadn't called again, and she didn't want to sit around in her 
apartment as though she was waiting for his call.  That's what cell phones 
are for, anyway, she thought, and stayed away from her place as much as she 
could.

She took long walks around the neighborhood, glad to be out in the bracing 
air.  She had coffee at the diner, taking the time to have a chat with Kimpa 
when it wasn't too busy.  She took Skinner's advice and went to the movies, 
studiously avoiding anything that might be considered a "date" movie.

The day before New Year's Eve her walk took her past the church.  She'd been 
walking the same route she and Mulder had taken on Christmas Eve.  She went 
inside, enjoying the dim warmth and the slight odor of incense.  She sat 
quietly at the back at first, and then went to light a candle in the Lady 
Chapel.

She knelt for a few minutes, fingering her cross as she cleared her mind for 
prayer.  What she really wanted to pray for was to find that her suspicions 
about Mulder's mysterious correspondent were unfounded.  It seemed a selfish 
thing to pray for, so instead she prayed for Mulder's continued health and 
well-being, as well as her family's.

When she finished in the chapel she went to sit in the back of the church 
again for a while, letting the quiet peace of the place calm her.  She felt 
better when she got up to leave.  There was no point in worrying over 
something she had no control over, she thought.  <But neither will I sit idly 
by and let someone snatch Mulder out from under my nose.>

-x-x-x-x-

She'd hoped for a call from Mulder that evening, but the phone stayed 
stubbornly silent.  She'd already resolved that she wouldn't call him.  This 
wasn't out of any contrariness on her part.  Mulder had nearly always been 
the one to do the calling, and he would find it out of character for her to 
be calling him just to say hello.  She didn't want him to question her reason 
for calling, didn't want to risk blurting out her fears.  This was a 
conversation that she wanted to have face to face.

She didn't realize that, in light of their changing relationship, he might 
welcome a call from her that had nothing to do with work.  The whole idea of 
a personal relationship was still too new for her to think that way.

-x-x-x-x-

At about midday on New Year's Eve, Mulder called.  From the background 
sounds, he was somewhere in public.

"Where are you?"  She hoped he wasn't driving.  It was a long trip between 
Connecticut and Washington, and the roads were probably icy.

I'm at the airport, trying to get on an earlier flight," he said.  "It's not 
looking promising, and the roads are worse, from what I hear.  Even if I 
started out now, I don't think I'll be back in time."

"Mulder, I don't want you to kill yourself getting back here," Scully said.  
"That would be defeating the purpose, wouldn't it?  We can go out some other 
time."

There was a long silence.  "Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd say that."  
More silence.  " But, I don't want to disappoint you, Scully."

"You couldn't possibly, Mulder," she said with more conviction than she felt 
at that moment.  The sting of jealousy touched her again.  Maybe he'd thought 
better now of getting involved, and was going to let her down easy.

"I don't want to let you down, Scully.  How `bout you just lay in some 
champagne at your place and we'll have our own celebration tonight when I get 
back, and I promise you I'll make it up to you with a nice dinner next week."

That felt a little better.  "Do you want me to pick you up at the airport?"

"No, I don't want you to come out in the holiday traffic.  I'll grab a cab 
and get over to your place as soon as I can.  It might be a little late, 
okay?  But I hope at least before midnight."

"Come on over no matter how late it is, Mulder," she said.  "I just want to 
see you."

Silence again.  Then he said very softly, "Thank you, Scully.  I miss you, 
too."  In the space of a breath his voice changed again to briskness.  "Gotta 
go. I'll call you when I get in."

Now the afternoon ahead seemed even longer.  She went to the grocery store 
and the liquor store, preparing for a special evening at home instead of an 
evening out.  Since she didn't know what time Mulder would be arriving, she 
bought ready-prepared items that she could just heat up or take out of the 
refrigerator.  Even if they weren't going to go out, she would try to make 
this evening as special as possible.

She treated herself to a long soak in the tub.  She thought a lot about 
Mulder, and herself, and how things were changing between them.  She knew it 
wouldn't be easy.  Nothing for them ever was.  But she hadn't counted on  
complications in the form of another woman.  Work would always be a rival; 
Mulder's quest had always come first with him, and she understood that.  The 
work had to come first, she felt the same way.  But had he really given up on 
her and started thinking about an outside relationship?  Or was this a 
one-night stand come back to haunt him?

Scully knew that at one time Mulder had a reputation in the Bureau, but she'd 
always thought it pre-dated the X-Files--and Diana Fowley.  She also knew 
from her own bitter experiences that rumors weren't always truths.  Anyone 
who looked like Fox Mulder was bound to attract attention, wanted or not.

Wanted or not.  The thought made her stop short as she dressed.  Perhaps the 
letter-writer had not been encouraged by Mulder.  Perhaps she was pursuing 
him without any encouragement.  A few things that puzzled her that week now 
made sense.  Skinner coming down to the office when he knew neither she nor 
Mulder would be there.  His discomfort when he found her there, and his 
questions regarding Mulder's knowledge of her whereabouts. 

The fact that Mulder called her right after her conversation with Skinner, 
and not calling again until today.  His canceling their dinner plans.  Maybe 
he was meeting with the letter-writer tonight instead.  Maybe Skinner knew 
about it too.

It seemed pretty far-fetched.  She sighed and finished dressing.  She dried 
her hair and did her makeup, and the nagging thought persisted.  She went 
into the living room and straightened up the already perfectly aligned sofa 
cushions and magazines on the coffee table.  She went out to the kitchen and 
wandered back out to the living room again.  What if?  What if?

When she couldn't stand it any longer, she put on her coat, tucked her gun 
and her badge in her pocket, and went for a drive.  She could just drive past 
the restaurant, make sure everything was okay.  If she didn't see Mulder's 
car, she wouldn't stop.  

continued in part 2...

What Are You Doing New Year's? (2 of 2)
by ML

Traffic was heavy.  Plenty of people heading toward dinner out or parties, 
she thought.  It made her more anxious to be there.  She turned on the radio 
to keep her mind off her worry.  The radio sang, "and now you're giving me 
nothing but shattered dreams..."  She twisted the knob on the radio so hard 
it came off in her hand.  This was ridiculous.  Whatever happened to the 
simplest explanation?

It was the simple explanation she didn't want to face.

Not that she wanted Mulder in danger as an alternative.   What if Mulder 
appeared at her place while she was gone?    She would have a hard time 
explaining herself.  However, she wouldn't mind looking foolish if everything 
turned out okay.

The restaurant was in a modest brick building in one of the neighborhoods 
that had become gentrified in recent years.  Scully saw Mulder's car in a 
prime spot across the street from the restaurant. There seemed to be very few 
other cars on the street.  She thought it odd that the area seemed almost 
deserted.  True, there weren't many other businesses open in this area at 
this time, but she expected it to be busier on such a festive night.  She 
walked past the window of the restaurant slowly, hoping to see if Mulder was 
in fact there.  

The front of Twenty-Eight had large windows, curtained from the street by 
sheer draperies.  With the warm light inside, it was a bit like looking into 
a stage set.  It didn't take long for her to spot him, though her eyes were 
caught first by the huge spray of roses on the table next to him.  Then she 
saw the woman seated opposite him.  She was just as Scully imagined she would 
be:  dark-haired, slender, but buxom.  It was hard to tell while she was 
seated, but it appeared she was also considerably taller than Scully.  One 
shapely leg was displayed under the skirt of a rather short sequined dress.  
She couldn't see very clearly due to the flowers on the table, but from their 
relative position, she would have said they were holding hands.  Mulder had 
his back to Scully, but the woman looked up at the movement and Scully could 
see a light of triumph in her eyes. 

Nothing looked out of place, except for the fact that Mulder was sitting at a 
table, holding hands with another woman.  Scully felt unsure again.  She had 
made a leap, one almost worthy of the leaps Mulder made on a daily basis, but 
it didn't look to be turning out the way his usually did.

She wasn't sure if her movement caught his eye, or if the woman's glance 
alerted Mulder.  He turned around and then Scully could see that he had his 
panic face on.  She turned her head slowly and continued walking past the 
windows as though she were only a passer by, even though she knew the woman 
must know who she was.

Mulder was in danger.  She was certain of it now.  That woman meant him harm. 
Before she could think about what to do, a hand grabbed her by the elbow and 
steered her around the corner, away from the windows.  "What the hell are you 
doing here?"  Skinner's voice hissed in her ear.

*Skinner*?  His presence now seemed to confirm her worst fears.  "I got 
worried, so I came by here to see if Mulder was here.  What are you doing 
here?"

Skinner jerked her farther away.  "We are in the middle of an operation, and 
you almost ruined it!"  he said, still in a fierce whisper.  "She's been 
stalking him for a while now.  He hatched this plan a few weeks back, but it 
took some convincing to get the restaurant to go along with it.  And even 
though *we* were ready, she was too quick for us.  Too quick for Mulder.  
She's handcuffed him to the table, and she's threatening to shoot them both."

"She has a gun?  You've seen it?"  This was getting worse and worse.

"She has a gun, and we don't know if she'll use it, but we have to take that 
chance.  There's a tactical team on the way."  He rubbed his face and looked 
long and hard at Scully.  "He didn't want you to know about any of this.  It 
was just him, and me as backup.  She was going to come to the restaurant, 
Mulder and I would already be here, and we were going to grab her going in."  
He sighed wearily.  "But she got here too early."

-x-x-x-x-

There was nothing to do but wait.  Scully sat in the tactical van with 
Skinner.  It didn't seem that this could end any way but badly.  She gnawed 
on her lower lip and tried to think of a way to get into the restaurant 
without endangering Mulder.  They had access to the back of the restaurant, 
but only by breaking down the door.  Two of the restaurant staff were in the 
dining room.  The building had a second floor, but the only access available 
was an outside staircase.  The interior stair had been torn out during a 
remodel.

Now there was a sniper on the roof across from the front of the restaurant 
but he couldn't get a clear view.  The woman was now sitting next to Mulder, 
holding a champagne glass to his mouth.  The image on the monitor was 
indistinct, and she couldn't see the expression on his face, but she could 
guess at it.

"What's her name?" Scully asked.  "What's her story?"

"Lola Stapleton.  She is, was, a temporary clerical in the bullpen," Skinner 
told her.  "Mulder was totally unaware of her existence, he says, until she 
started leaving notes for him about a month ago.  This past week they 
increased in frequency.  He and I talked about it just before Christmas and 
at the time he didn't think there was any danger.  He told me he would stop 
by and talk to her, assess the situation.  Evidently he didn't get around to 
it, and she started to make threats."  He paused and looked at her.  "One of 
the threats was against you."

Oh God.  No wonder he'd agreed to meet with Lola, and was so anxious for 
Scully to stay put.  All the pieces fell into place.  

Skinner continued.  "I told him we could just go pick her up, but he wanted 
to meet with her.  He agreed to wear a wire, but she found it and disabled 
it."

Scully licked her dry lips.  "Has she made any claims?  Said anything about 
being an abductee, or anything like that?"

Skinner regarded her steadily.  "Agent Scully, I think this woman is just a 
common, garden-variety nutcase.  Mulder just happened to be the unfortunate 
she fixated on."  His earpiece buzzed with someone's voice.  "Someone else is 
in the restaurant."  Scully's heart started to pound.  Would this set the 
woman off?  She wanted to run out there herself, but she made herself stay 
put, at least for the moment.

"Where did that guy come from?"  Skinner was staring at the monitor now.  A 
somewhat scruffy looking man, dressed in busboy whites, approached the table 
with a cloth-covered tray.  Lola turned, frowning, toward the new man.

Mulder took advantage of her temporary distraction to roll under and upend 
the table, using it as a shield against her.

At the same time, the newcomer whipped out a black object and pushed it 
against Lola's arm.  Scully could almost hear the scream.  Lola dropped her 
gun and rolled to the floor, writhing and holding her arm.

If she'd stayed to watch the monitor, Scully would have seen the SWAT team 
burst into the dining room from all directions.  However, both she and 
Skinner were out the door almost before Lola Stapleton fell.

-x-x-x-x-

Langly wasn't talking.  He sat at a corner table with commotion all around 
him and refused to tell how he knew Mulder would be there, and how he managed 
to do what he did.  Mulder was seated at another table, having his bruises 
and scrapes checked out by the paramedics.

Scully stood near Skinner, who was the one unsuccessfully questioning Langly. 
All he would say is, "I have a permit for the stun gun.  She was armed, and 
threatening me.  I was within my rights to use it."  

Scully was only half-listening.  Her attention was on Mulder, who at the 
moment wasn't looking at her.  She wasn't sure what was going on in his head 
at that moment.  In hers, there were equal parts of anger and relief.  She 
wasn't certain yet which would win out.

Eventually Skinner gave up and went over to Mulder and exchanged a few words 
with him.  Mulder looked over to Scully and sketched a small smile.  She 
tried to smile back.

There were too many people around, and her head was still swimming with 
recent events.  She wanted nothing more than to go over and put her arms 
around Mulder, and then give him a piece of her mind for putting himself in 
danger yet again.  But this wasn't the time or place for it.

Frohike came sauntering in through the front door.  "Happy New Year, Scully," 
he said gallantly, waving his half-gloved fingers to her in greeting.  "I've 
come to pick up Langly.  Is he all done?"

Skinner stared at the little man.  "Just get him out of here," he said 
through gritted teeth.

Langly peeled off the white uniform coat, revealing a black tee shirt with 
Lara Croft emblazoned across the front.  "Let's get outta here, Frohike.  All 
these authority figures are giving me gas."

Scully asked, "How *did* you guys know that Mulder was here?  Did he tell you 
about this?"

Frohike shook his head.  "Nah.  You know Mulder, he only tells you what he 
wants to tell you.  He had us check this chick out a month or so ago on the 
q.t.  He said don't even tell you, and that's a big red flag right there."

Langly broke in.  "We just happened to hear over the police band about a 
possible hostage situation with a female suspect and put two and two 
together."  He smirked.  "Trust Mulder to get his ass kicked by a girl."

Frohike raised his eyebrows.  "I'd say with Agent Scully around, it happens 
regularly."

"Thanks, guys," Scully said.  "Both Skinner and Mulder owe you big time, even 
if they won't admit it."

Frohike glanced over to where Mulder sat, still talking to Skinner.  "We know 
he knows."  He caught Mulder's eye and raised his hand.  Mulder nodded 
slightly back, his face solemn.

<Guy-speak for "thanks, you saved my ass,"> Scully mused as she watched this 
display.

Langly also waved over to Mulder, made a face that might have been a smile at 
Scully, and followed Frohike out the door.

Skinner came over to Scully and watched the two leave, his lips in a thin 
line, but with just a suggestion of a smile.  "You should go home, too, 
Scully," Skinner suggested.  "You look exhausted."

"No more than Mulder," she said.  "Or you, for that matter.  I just want to 
make sure Mulder has a way home."  Finally she gathered her courage in her 
hands and went over to speak to Mulder.

The paramedics had finished with him and he sat alone, looking disheveled 
from his dive to the floor.  For once, however, he had escaped serious 
injury.  She sat down beside him.

"Hey, Scully," he said tiredly.  "Not the way I thought we'd be spending New 
Year's."  He rubbed his face with his hands.  She noticed one wrist was a 
little raw looking from the handcuff.

"No, but not so surprising, Mulder," she said.  "We can't seem to do things 
the usual way, can we?"

"You're not mad at me, are you?"  he asked quietly.

She answered just as quietly, "Mulder, why didn't you tell me?"

He looked sheepish.  "I meant to, but then...Christmas Eve happened, and 
somehow..."

Scully said, "I found one of her notes when I went to feed your fish."

Mulder looked stricken.  "God, Scully, I can only imagine what you thought."

No kidding, she thought, but didn't say.

"Hey," he said softly when she didn't speak right away.  She looked up at 
him.  "I'm sorry, Scully."

Her eyes filled with tears in spite of herself.

"Maybe next time you'll trust me enough to tell me," she said.

"Scully...." he brushed under her eye with his finger.  He put his other hand 
over hers where they lay folded in her lap.  

She shook her head, a smiled a little.  "Let's not argue.  You've been 
through a lot tonight, and it's late."

"It's not that late, Scully,"  Mulder said, looking at his watch.  "It's just 
a little after ten o'clock."

"It's ten-thirty, Mulder, and we wouldn't be able to get into any place at 
this late hour," Scully said.  "Nor would I want to.  I'm tired, and I bet 
you are, too.  I'd rather just go home."

Skinner said, "Why are you two still here?"

Scully jumped and pulled her hand away from Mulder's.  "Aren't we needed for 
statements, Sir?"

"No, I think you could go home and submit your reports tomorrow.  Or the next 
day.  I already talked to the police, and they'll accept your reports as 
statements."  He gestured to the door.  "Go on, get out of here."

"Thank you, Sir," both Mulder and Scully said.  "Good night, Sir."

"Happy New Year, Agents," Skinner said.  "Be careful on the way home."

"Where are you parked?" Mulder asked as they got outside.

"About half a block down," Scully pointed.  She started walking toward her 
car.  Mulder followed, and she turned toward him.  "I'm okay, Mulder.  Go on, 
go home and get some rest."

He looked disappointed.  He must have thought that their date was still on.  
Scully added gently,  "It's late, Mulder.  You've been through a lot, and 
frankly, so have I.  Let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," he said very quietly, but before he turned away, he bent down and 
kissed her cheek.  "Goodnight, Scully."

"Goodnight," she whispered as he walked back to his car.  She turned and 
walked swiftly to her own car, hoping to outrun the tears which threatened to 
fall again.

Her apartment seemed too quiet as she walked in.  The hearth was cold; only 
one lamp was lit in the corner.  She threw her keys on the hall table and 
walked through to her bedroom, cracking her neck.  Maybe she should have 
invited Mulder to come back with her.  They could have salvaged what was left 
of the evening, at least spent a little time together.

But she didn't want to settle for a little time.  She was very disappointed 
that the much-anticipated date had been canceled, and she couldn't help but 
blame Mulder for it a little bit.  She just didn't want to say that to him.

She knew that part of her anger was because she'd been so scared for him.  
She knew she couldn't change the man he was, and she didn't really want to.  
But she needed time to process her feelings.  She changed out of her street 
clothes and started the shower running.  She got the water as hot as she 
could stand it and stood under the spray until it started to cool.

Far from relaxing her, it made her feel even more jumpy.  She avoided looking 
at the red flannel pajama top on her bed, and changed into sweats and thick 
socks. She went to the kitchen to brew some tea.  She took it into the living 
room and turned on the TV, muting the sound, and watched the revelry at Times 
Square.  It was nearing midnight, and she was alone.

This in itself wasn't a strange state of affairs.  It had been several years 
since she'd even been to a New Year's Eve party, let alone had a date for it. 
 There was no use pretending, however.  It was going to be different this 
year, and now it wasn't.  She missed the possibility.

Before giving herself a chance to think about it, she put on her shoes, 
grabbed her coat, and headed for the door again.

It lacked only a few minutes to midnight when she stepped outside, and 
already she could hear distant commotion.  People were gathering on their 
balconies and stoops to welcome in the new year.  She started walking down 
the street.   she told herself.  

She heard church bells, firecrackers, and shouts as the hour struck.  Faraway 
voices screamed and yelled, "Happy New Year!"  Horns honked.  Somewhere, what 
sounded like a shotgun went off.  She kept walking.

She made it to Kimpa's not long after midnight.  Kimpa was alone by the cash 
register.

"Happy New Year, Kimpa," Scully said as she came in the door.

"Back at ya, Dana," Kimpa said cheerfully.  "Why aren't you out partying?"

"That's what I came here for," Scully said.  Suddenly she wasn't sure this 
was a good idea.  It made her look pathetic.  But Kimpa wouldn't judge her.

"Why aren't *you* out partying?"  Scully asked.

"I gave most of the staff the night off," Kimpa said.  "It's usually dead in 
here until the bars close, and then we get a little rush for about an hour.  
Not a big deal, Stan's here."  Stan waved from the kitchen.  "Go sit, Dana.  
Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee.  Thanks, Kimpa."  Scully headed for her usual booth, toward the back 
of the diner.  It was the same booth she'd shared with Mulder, just a week 
ago.  That night, the air had been filled with magic and anticipation.  What 
a difference a week made.

She was so lost in her reverie she didn't hear the diner's door open, or 
footsteps approach.  "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"  came Mulder's voice 
from behind her.  She turned to see him standing there.  He'd changed into 
jeans and a pullover, and wore his leather jacket against the winter air.

"It's tomorrow, Scully.  You said we could talk."  He settled into the booth 
opposite her.

"How did you find me here?"  she asked.

"I went to your place first.  I could see your car, but your coat was gone.  
I just had a hunch.  I work for the FBI, you know," he smirked.

"I thought I sent you home to get some sleep," she said.

"I couldn't sleep.  My couch isn't as comfortable as your couch, and my 
favorite PJs are at your place," he said.  "Not to mention my new favorite 
snuggly toy."  His raised eyebrows made it obvious he was referring to her.

"I'm not your toy, Mulder," she snapped.  Another time she might be able to 
come back with a suitable witticism.  Instead, she merely sighed.  Mulder was 
trying to deflect with humor, as was his habit.  She just didn't have the 
energy or the heart for it tonight.

"I know you're not.  Bad choice of words on my part.  I just wanted to 
convey--"

"I know what you wanted to convey, Mulder, I just don't feel like playing 
right now."  She stirred her coffee vigorously.

"Okay."  He was silent for a while.  She didn't look up at him.  "You 
obviously couldn't sleep either," he pointed out.

She sighed.  "No, you're right.  I couldn't stop thinking about tonight, and 
what happened."

Mulder grimaced.  "Neither can I.  Lucky for me the Gunmen are so nosy."

Scully finally looked up at him.  "They told me you had her checked out.  You 
must not have found anything, to be so dismissive of the threat she posed."

"I wasn't dismissive," Mulder protested.  "I took it very seriously.  I just 
had a lot of other things on my mind."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Mulder.  If you were distracted by other 
`things,' by which I assume you mean us, then there probably shouldn't *be* 
an `us.'"

"Scully, if you want to put it that way, you've been distracting me for 
years.  But in a good way," he hastened to add.  "If anything, having the 
chance to be with you should make me better able to concentrate on work."

"That sounds like specious logic to me," Scully replied.

"No, not at all.  `Cuz now that I know you *like* me, I don't have to worry 
about whether you do or not."  He looked into her eyes.  "You *do* like me, 
don't you?"

She could tell that he was no longer joking around, that her answer was very 
important to him.  She reached out to take his hand.

"Oh, Mulder," she said.  "If you don't know by now, there's something I'm not 
doing right."

"Practice makes perfect, Scully," he said.  "I guess we just have to keep 
trying until we get it right."  He got up and came around to sit next to her 
instead of opposite her.  As he sat, he put his arm around her and she leaned 
against his shoulder.

Mulder tucked her head under his chin.  She could feel his voice rumbling in 
his chest as he started to speak again.  "I thought about what you said, 
after.  I just want you to know, not telling you wasn't about trust, or lack 
of it.  I just didn't want to worry you.  I thought I had it under control.  
That I could take care of this, and we could go on with our lives.  Nothing 
has changed the way I feel about you, or how much I trust and need you."  

As he had so many times in the past, he came straight to the heart of her 
concerns.  She sighed and sat up, but she let him take her hand.  "What I 
tried to say, Mulder, is that what we do, and what we are to each other, is 
complicated enough.  We shouldn't be trying to protect each other by 
withholding things.  I need to share in what's happening to you, good and 
bad.  I don't need to be shielded from it."

"Okay, Scully," Mulder promised.  "No more secrets.  From me, or from you.  
You know it goes both ways, don't you?"  

She nodded.  She knew that his promise was sincere, and that he would do his 
best to live up to it.  But this also meant that she would have to live up to 
her end of the bargain, and share things that she'd always had trouble 
sharing in the past.

These were not things that could be resolved with one conversation.  Over 
time, she hoped that they could come to a better understanding.  Right now, 
she was happy just  to be with him, and it superseded any other thoughts or 
emotions.

They looked at each other intently.  Mulder had her hand, and was rubbing his 
thumb across her knuckles.  

It was time to put everything else aside, and just enjoy the moment.

"I guess you won't be taking me to Twenty-Eight after all.  I'd be surprised 
if they let you within ten yards of the door," she said in a teasing tone.

Mulder's expression lightened considerably.  He winced elaborately.  "They'll 
probably have my face up with a warning in every restaurant in town.  I'll 
have to make reservations under an assumed name."

"That's not going to get you out of taking me to dinner," Scully warned.  "I 
spent a lot of money on a nice dress, and I want to wear it."

"Never fear, Scully, that's number one on my list of New Year's resolutions," 
Mulder replied.

"I didn't know you made resolutions," she said.

"I did this year, and most of them have to do with you," Mulder said.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Agent Mulder?" 

"Well, let's see.  You know the first one...then there's the one about making 
love to you at every opportunity, and telling you at least once a day that I 
love you..."  He stopped, a look of surprise on his face.  "Have I told you 
yet today?"

"Not in so many words, Mulder," she said, as surprised as he was.

"I don't think I've told you, ever, in those words," he said slowly.

"Maybe not, but I've heard you say it," she said.

At that, he leaned down and kissed her.  She pressed closer to him and 
returned his kisses with fervor.

The lights seemed to dim and she began to hear music.  She and Mulder opened 
their eyes at the same instant and realized that half the lights in the diner 
had been turned off.  Someone had turned up the music.  Kimpa was nowhere to 
be seen.

Mulder said, "Scully, I think this is my cue.  Would you care to dance?"  He 
got up and held his hand out to her.

She stood, and he caught her in his arms.  They swayed together in time to 
the music.

"Laughing eyes and smiling face,
I feel so lucky just to have the right
To be telling you with all my might
You're beautiful tonight.

And I know that you won't ever stray
`Cuz you've been that way from day to day
For such a long long time

And when you hold me tight
How could life be anything but beautiful?
I think that I was made for you
And you were made for me

And I know that I won't ever change
We've been friends through rain or shine
For such a long long time.

Well I must say it means so much to me
To be the one who's telling you,
I'm telling you,
That you're beautiful."

When the song ended, they stayed locked in an embrace.  Scully never wanted 
to move from that spot.  Her eyelids were heavy and her lips tingled from 
Mulder's kisses.  He seemed just as reluctant to move.

Finally, Mulder whispered in her ear, "I think it's time to go home, Scully."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.  He looked at her with eyes dark 
with meaning and desire.  She nodded mutely, unable to speak or look away 
from him.

Mulder put a twenty next to the register as they went out the door, arms 
around each other.  He stopped her again as they got outside.

"They say, Scully, that what you do on New Year's Day is what you'll be doing 
for the rest of the year."  He kissed her again for emphasis.

Scully said, "I hope it's not just for a year, Mulder."  She kissed him back.

"If it is," Mulder said between kisses, "Then we'll just have to start all 
over again next New Year's.  That okay with you, Scully?"

"Well, except for the hostage part, I'm all for it," she said, and they went 
laughing together into the new year, and into their new lives.

end.
=====

Author's notes: Wow, this ended up being a lot longer than I thought it 
would.  I hope you don't find the story part  too implausible.  

Elements of Kimpa's New Year's challenge:
80's song (I used a few words from "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz)
Champagne
Mulder's goldfish
Scully's cross
A red slinky dress
Scully and/or Mulder jealous
Extra points for using Kimpa's name!
My own bonus song: "Beautiful" by Gordon Lightfoot.  It's 70's, not 80's, but 
it seemed just right to me.

Thanks to Kimpa, you can find my other stories at:
http://angelfire.com/ak3/Kimpa/mlfic.html