"Another Blind Date" 
by ScullyBandit
Rating: G 
Category:  MSR
Spoilers: Triangle, Fight the Future, Rain 
King
Summary: Scully accepts a blind date without 
telling Mulder. 
Archive: Anywhere but keep my name and 
headers on it please.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to 
me, but I wish they did.
This is my VERY first attempt at fanfiction,  
I would love feedback very much! 
Carol117@aol.com 


"Mulder, when was the last time you went on 
a date?"

Scully had uttered those words to Mulder 
when she found out he was attempting to 
dispense dating advice to a lovestruck 
country bumpkin on one of their latest 
assignments. Now her words were bouncing 
around in her head like a bat trapped in an 
attic. Who was she to talk? The question 
should have been "When was the last time 
either of us went on a date?"
Too long. Like when she first became 
Mulder's partner. Six years ago. Gee, time 
flies when you're busy being abducted. 
Anyway, her one and only date during that 
time was the father of one of the kids at her 
nephew's birthday party. As pleasant and 
charming as he'd been, she ultimately 
abandoned him after an urgent phone call from 
Mulder.
 Mulder again. His name always cropped 
up whenever she thought about her extinct 
social life. He was the reason she never 
dated, never had time to date, never looked 
at anyone else.
In the beginning, she was so immersed in 
her new FBI career; she had no time to devote 
to dating. Then she was so focused on her 
illness and survival that there was no 
question of involving someone in her mixed up 
life. Eventually, Scully didn't want anyone 
else in her life. Mulder had permeated 
through her walls of defense and set up shop 
in her heart.  Unbeknownst to him, he'd 
become the center of her universe. 
Thinking back to the beginning, the word 
"jerk" came to mind. That's what she 
thought of him then, if she thought of him at 
all. Suspicion defined their relationship. 
Mulder thought she was a spy and it took a 
long time to change his mind. Trust came in 
time, and when it finally did evolve, it 
proved to be boundless and total. Good-
natured teasing and flirting came naturally, 
more so for Mulder than for her. Still, 
Scully enjoyed it and looked forward to his 
clever remarks and rakish comments.  
Somewhere along the line she began to read 
meaning into his comments and welcome his 
rare touches, the guiding hand on the small 
of her back, the enveloping safety of his 
hugs when she needed him most. Somewhere 
along the line, Scully fell in love.
Now it wasn't that funny anymore when 
Mulder flirted with her suggestively. At 
times, when he made physical contact, it was 
torturous. Scully knew Mulder thought of her 
as his closest friend. He trusted her with 
his life and had risked his life many times 
for her sake. She was certain he loved her in 
his own platonic way. How she hated that 
word. There was nothing 'platonic' about her 
feelings for him; that was for sure. 
Consequently she hid them well behind her 
cool blue gaze and indifferent expression, 
resigning herself to be contented with the 
time she spent with him working or hanging 
out in a 'friendly' manner. There had been a 
couple of times when the tide almost turned 
for them, but ended in ill fated missed 
chances.

The first came one steamy summer day as 
Scully tried to tell Mulder she was leaving 
him for a fresh start in a new city; leading 
to an exchange of truths and an awakening in 
both that was unceremoniously stifled by the 
sting of a bee. Later in the Fall, delirious 
in a Bermuda hospital bed after being saved 
from near drowning, Mulder had spoken those 
three little words every woman dreams of 
hearing. He'd sat up in his bed with a stupid 
grin on his face and called her back to his 
bedside.

 "I love you," he said.

Scully had never pretended to be as impassive 
as she had at that moment. She'd rolled her 
eyes, muttered 
"Oh brother" and then strolled out the 
door. Once in the hall, though, she'd 
trembled as she leaned on the wall for 
support. Hot blood raced through her veins 
and hammered in her ears. How long had she 
wished to hear him say that? His words rang 
hollow on her ears. She knew he didn't mean 
them. He was doped up with morphine, grateful 
to be alive, and too irrational to think 
clearly. If he even remembered what he'd 
said, he'd probably be embarrassed in the 
morning. Inside she'd felt her heart crack in 
two. The pain was horrendous. 
From that day on what little prospect 
she thought they had for moving their 
relationship to the next level seemed to slip 
away. As much as she tried to keep her chin 
up and her feelings buried, she found that, 
little by little, she and Mulder no longer 
moved in sync. The pair was drifting apart 
emotionally. There were times when she 
couldn't stand to be around him. More often 
she felt the urge to grab him by the collar, 
shake some sense into him and admit 
everything in her heart. Fear of making a 
fool of herself put an end to that. 

So here she was. It was late Friday 
afternoon and she was finishing up some 
paperwork and making notes on things to 
attend to Monday. Tonight she wasn't bringing 
any work home. She was heading out to shop 
for a new outfit for tomorrow night. She 
deserved it. A fresh start and a new outfit. 
Perfect.
Last week Scully had bumped into 
Christine, an old friend from the F.B.I. 
Academy, as she hurried into the supermarket 
late one night. Having been members of the 
small female population who'd enrolled and 
managed to make it through the intensive 
physical and mental training, they'd 
gravitated toward each other for mutual 
support and companionship during those trying 
days. Once they'd graduated, their careers 
took them in different directions, but they 
still tried to stay in touch. 
Scully and Christine had chatted 
excitedly for a few minutes, and then Chris 
invited her to a dinner party she was 
planning for the following Saturday. On the 
sly, she told Scully there was a good 
possibility that another friend of hers - an 
attractive, single male - might attend and so 
if she was available, it might be a good 
opportunity for her to meet someone new. 
Scully had mulled it over for a day or two 
and then called Chris to say she would be 
there. 
It wasn't an easy decision, but in the 
end she knew it was the right one. Time was 
passing and she wasn't getting any younger. 
Besides, the way things were between her and 
Mulder these days, the pangs of loneliness 
were growing stronger. Even the mountain of 
work she had couldn't bury the feeling for 
long.

Guiltily she peeked at Mulder, feet 
propped on his desk as he leaned precariously 
back in his chair. He was poring over some 
photos from a recent, very gruesome case they 
were working on. It was killing her. Part of 
her wanted to confess what she was about to 
do. Her heart actually ached for him, because 
he had no idea. It felt a bit like betrayal. 
OK. If she didn't stop now and get out of 
there, she was going to break down and spill 
the beans.

"Hey Scully?"

Oh no. All she wanted to do was say 
"Goodbye" and get out of there. What did he 
want?

"Yeah Mulder?"

"What's cookin' this weekend? Any big 
plans?"

OH GOD! Was he suspicious?
 No, she was being paranoid.

"Uh.... nothing exciting. Just getting 
together with some friends."
Just going to meet some guy whose name she 
didn't even know who was the friend of a 
friend. Just going to cheat on you, Mulder, 
because I've been waiting long enough for 
you.
"How about you?" She tried to be 
nonchalant, but knew there was a tremor in 
her voice, the pitch just slightly higher 
than normal.

"Not much. I think I'll probably be back 
here tomorrow. There's something about these 
pictures that's not sitting well with me. I'm 
wondering if they or the evidence had been 
tampered with. You want to have a look, 
Scully?" He was still absorbed in his photos 
and never looked up.

"I'd love to, but I have to get going. I 
have errands to run. See you Monday, 
Mulder."

"Ok. See ya, Scully."

Fine. Now she didn't feel so bad. He 
didn't really care what she was doing this 
weekend. And she wasn't cheating. She owed 
him nothing. As close as they were, they were 
not a couple. She didn't need to check with 
him every time she made a move.
Feeling a little better, she zipped home 
to change, grabbed her credit card and set 
out to her final destination...the mall.

By six o'clock the next evening, Scully 
was dressed to kill. One last check in the 
mirror. Copper tresses piled in soft curls, 
wispy strands falling to softly frame her 
face. Very unScullylike. Check. Just enough 
makeup to make her aquamarine irises sparkle 
and her lips appear even fuller than usual. 
Check. Brand new silk blouse with long 
flowing sleeves; plum colored to accent the 
color of her eyes. Wrap-around black silk 
skirt gently brushing the backs of her 
calves. Delicate black sandals held to her 
bare feet by a thin strap here and there. 
Perfect. Mulder wouldn't even recognize her. 
Mulder, Mulder, Mulder. This was no time to 
think of him. Prince charming was waiting.... 
maybe.

Scully stepped onto Christine's porch 
fifteen minutes later feeling excited and 
nauseated. What was she doing? Irrationally, 
she missed Mulder more than ever. If only she 
could turn and run. She could call them from 
her cell phone and say there was an 
emergency. Coward. Just do it. She rang the 
bell and Christine answered it.
 
"Dana! I'm so glad you came."
Eyeing her friend, Christine exclaimed, 
"Wow! You look gorgeous!" and opened the 
door wider to admit Scully inside the long 
foyer.
 White trim accented pale yellow walls. 
A simple brass chandelier softly lit a 
staircase sweeping up to the second floor 
landing. Beyond the staircase, at the far end 
of the foyer, light spilled into the dim 
hallway and Scully could hear voices and 
muted music. "Here goes nothing," she 
thought as Chris led her down the hall into 
the light.
The living room was glowing with the 
light of dozens of candles and a cozy fire 
crackled in a huge stone hearth. Two couples 
were lounging on the sofa drinking wine and 
conversing amiably as Chris's husband, Jack, 
poked at the fire. No one else was in site. 
OK, so where was Mr. Wonderful?
"Dana! How are you?" Chimed Jack as he came 
over to give Scully a warm hug and a peck on 
the cheek.
"You look beautiful."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Jack" 
Scully beamed at him.
"We're just waiting on one more guest and 
then we'll sit down to dinner. I hope you 
like Beef Bourgenon." Well it didn't take 
much to figure out who they were waiting for.
To calm her nerves, Scully filled her glass 
with wine and gravitated toward the nearest 
friendly face.
 She had to admit, Chris and Jack's friends 
were really quite interesting and some time 
later, absorbed in conversation, she didn't 
notice the doorbell ringing or Jack 
disappearing to answer it.
Voices in the doorway naturally caused her to 
turn and see who was coming in. Good thing 
she was already planted on the couch, because 
it would have been embarrassing if her knees 
buckled under her and she hit the floor in a 
cascade of White Zinfandel.
"MULDER!" gasped Scully.
"SCULLY?" The sight of the two of them, 
wide-eyed, their jaws swinging open in the 
breeze, must have been hilarious. If she 
could stand, she would have barreled past him 
into the street. A ringing started up in her 
ears. Of all the men in the greater 
metropolitan area who could have been 
selected as her blind date...
She couldn't even think let alone hear Chris 
over that annoying ringing sound.

"Isn't this a riot? You two know each 
other?"

Mulder spoke; his voice cracking on the first 
word.
"Wah- ahem, We work together. We're partners 
actually."
He watched her warily, probably wondering 
what her next move might be.

 Leave it to Scully to take it all in stride; 
pick up the ball and run with it. Run. That's 
what she wanted to do.
 "Yes, this definitely is a riot." Scully 
forced a strained laugh and could barely look 
Mulder in the eye. He seemed to have his own 
problem looking at Scully and appeared to be 
searching for the nearest exit.

"I think this is wonderful. It's fate. Don't 
you agree, Honey?" Christine looked at Jack.

Jack was a bit more aware of the pair's 
discomfort and tried to alleviate the tension 
by announcing dinner.
As fate would have it, Scully and Mulder were 
seated directly opposite each other. Perfect. 
They each managed to eat, drink, and make 
merry small talk. At first they spent a lot 
of their energy avoiding each other's gaze. 
But as dinner progressed and more wine was 
imbibed, they both relaxed in each other's 
company and began to enjoy the evening. Jokes 
were exchanged regarding this chance 
encounter and their initial shock dissipated. 
After dinner, they all retired to the family 
room where yet another cozy fire blazed and 
soft music played from speakers hidden 
somewhere in the room. Mulder regaled them 
with funny tales gleaned from some of their 
stranger assignments and Scully chimed in 
here and there to add a comment or give her 
version of the story. The evening flew by and 
it started to get late. Gradually, two by 
two, the couples began to leave. Mulder and 
Scully were the last to leave-one by one. 
Mulder left first bidding goodbye to the host 
and hostess and calling "See you Monday, 
Scully" as he nonchalantly sauntered out the 
door.
Catching up on old times, Scully stayed a bit 
longer to chat with Chris as Jack cleaned up. 
Soon a satisfying tiredness spread throughout 
her limbs she was ready to head home.

At the door, Christine looked at her 
apologetically.
"I'm really sorry to have put you in such an 
awkward position. I should have told you who 
would be here before you came."
 "That's OK, Chris. Everything turned out 
well in the end."
"You two seem suited for each other. It's 
strange that you haven't gotten 'together' 
before this."
"Well Chris, we work well together and 
that's what's important."
Her friend detected a wistful quality in that 
last comment.

"Anyway, thank you again for the delicious 
meal. I really enjoyed myself."

"Really?"

"Yes, I did. You have a beautiful home and 
you're a wonderful cook."

"Goodnight Dana. Drive safely and I'll talk 
to you soon."

"Goodnight, Chris," called Scully as she 
descended the wide porch steps and entered 
the soft glow of the carriage lanterns along 
the walkway.
The stars were bright in the night sky and 
Scully walked slowly to her car, taking in 
the cool, crisp air, hoping to clear her 
head.
So preoccupied with her thoughts was Scully, 
that she didn't notice the dark figure 
leaning on her car in the shadows of a large 
privacy hedge. Only when she crossed the 
street did she see him and she froze as her 
stomach tightened with fright. Then she heard 
him call softly in a familiar voice and she 
immediately relaxed. 
She had a feeling she might find him here. Or 
was it more accurate to say she was hoping?
In her chest, innumerable emotions caused her 
heart to throb and her thoughts became hazy.

Guilt and embarrassment were foremost in her 
mind. Who knew what he was thinking. But one 
thing was for sure; since he had accepted an 
offer of a blind date, he was not 
entertaining thoughts of any kind of 
'romantic' relationship with her. Right now 
he was probably trying to think of some 
suitable justification for being here.

"Pretty funny, ay Scully? Imagine someone 
setting us up. What were the odds on that?"

"What WERE they thinking?" chuckled Scully 
with a big fake smile plastered on her face.
"I never take these things seriously anyway. 
Statistically, the odds of finding the 
perfect mate on a blind date are stacked 
against you. But it's a good excuse to go out 
and buy a new outfit!" she supplied 
cheerfully.

"Speaking of outfits," he said, his voice 
lowered suggestively, "You look stunning 
tonight." 
Scully knew he was staring straight at her 
because the suffused light from the street 
lamps was reflected in his eyes.
"You should wear your hair like that more 
often. It's very flattering."

Why was he doing this to her? Did he realize 
this was torture?
"Thanks, Mulder. I appreciate that."
Fake yawn.
"Well, I'm beat. It was kind of you to wait 
up for me." She moved toward the driver's 
side door. "I'll see you Monday."
Mulder blocked her path.

"Scully wait."
Now what?

"What is it, Mulder?"

"Can I ask you something?" He reached out 
and ran a finger down the sleeve of her coat. 

"How about asking me tomorrow over coffee. 
I'm really tired and I just want to go to 
bed."
 Plus I can still feel the lingering 
affects of alcohol and the night is gorgeous 
and I need the light of day to think clearly.

"I'd rather not wait. That's why I stayed 
here."

His words were imploring her to stay and 
listen. She had to admit she was curious. 
Curiosity killed the cat, Agent Scully.

"OK, what gives?" 
She leaned against the hood of her car, 
crossing her arms in front of her chest and 
bundling herself more tightly against the 
chilly night air and, subconsciously, against 
Mulder. 
Mulder kicked a few unfortunate pebbles 
around with the toe of his shoe and seemed to 
be struggling to search for the right words.

"Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes, I had a very good time."
Scully waited for more words, but they 
weren't forthcoming.
"Was that the big question? If so, I'm 
leaving now." She moved toward the car door.

"No, wait..." he moved a step closer to stop 
her from leaving.

"Is there something else you'd like to 
know?" she asked trying to sound patient.

"One other thing. I was kind of 
wondering... Why did you agree to a blind date? 
It's just not your style." he blurted at 
last. 

For Heaven's sake!
How was she supposed to answer that? The 
answer was too complicated. Besides the fact 
that he was asking her to bare her soul and 
invite him to stomp all over her heart again. 
They weren't dating. She didn't belong to him 
and he had no business asking. Mulder was 
clearly a lunatic and she could no longer 
suppress her aggravation.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Why 
DOES a person accept a blind date, Mulder? 
There are a million reasons...YOU pick one!" 

Silence. Sand crinkled under his shuffling 
feet.
"Uh...because they're desperate?"

His words were like a fist in her gut.
DESPERATE? He thought she was desperate? Does 
he have ANY idea how many dates she'd refused 
from handsome, eligible men because of him? 
Because she'd held out hope that eventually, 
SOMEDAY, it would suddenly dawn on his thick 
head that they belonged together- 
professionally, romantically, spiritually, 
forever and ever, until death do we part.
Now he was insinuating she was desperate and 
she wanted more than anything to scream. 
Scream in his face that she was here, 
standing in the darkness, still single and 
thirtysomething and lonely and it was all his 
fault! Then she would punch him. Make him 
feel inside what she was experiencing this 
very moment.
Instead she just gawked at him for a moment, 
willing the nausea to fade away and her blood 
to stop boiling.

"Well then that makes us two desperate 
people I guess." 
Taking a long deep breath, she stepped around 
him and unlocked her car door. 

"Wait Scully. I was just joking." He 
clutched her upper arm. 
"Please don't go 
yet?"
Scully yanked her arm from his grasp. His 
fingers were burning through the layers of 
fabric; leaving his mark on her delicate 
skin.

"What do you want from me, Mulder?" 
If stamping her feet didn't look so childish, 
she would have slammed the hard wooden heels 
of her black sandals into the pavement or 
maybe on his toes. But her own toes were 
beginning to get numb and her sandals too 
delicate and expensive to withstand the 
temper tantrum. Scully glared at him. He was 
obviously suffering some inner turmoil and 
the conflicting emotions constantly morphed 
the expression on his face.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I came on 
this date, Scully?"
His question both puzzled and irritated her. 
Wasn't it obvious why he came? Why would he 
ask her that?

Defeated, she replied in a monotone, 
"OK 
Mulder. I'll bite. Why did you come on this 
date?"

Whatever would get her out of this 
bewildering situation the quickest. 
By now she had opened the driver's side door 
and was sitting on the edge of the seat with 
the door open and her feet in the gutter. Her 
forehead was resting in the palm of her right 
hand as she studied the painted nails on her 
frozen toes.

"I came, Scully, because I've waited for 
something to happen between us for so long 
and finally realized that nothing ever will."

All those firearms exploding too closely to 
her eardrums had finally taken their toll. 
Her hearing was damaged. Mulder's words were 
not making any sense.
Scully raised her head and focused on his 
mouth, hoping to better understand him by 
reading his lips.

Mulder went on.
"With everything we've been through, my 
feelings for you have grown. You made me 
trust you when I fought it tooth and nail for 
the longest time. Then somehow you became my 
best friend and I knew in my heart I would do 
anything for you. Those times when you were 
near death; when you had cancer and the time 
you got shot by that idiot partner of yours 
in New York...I couldn't even imagine what I 
would have done without you. When I wrecked 
my boat and was floating in the ocean, before 
I lost consciousness, all I could think of 
was you. I figured if I drowned I was going 
to go to Hell. You know what Hell would have 
been to me, Scully?" 
He didn't wait for her 
response.
"Hell would have been to spend eternity 
never again able to see the sun glint off 
that gorgeous red head of yours, or watch 
your eyes change shades of blue when you're 
pissed off at me."

She realized she was standing up now - quite 
stunned. What could she say? She could 
explain cryptic mysteries by piecing together 
the most fragile, virtually imperceptible 
evidence. Yet, she never had a clue about 
this. 
Love was blind...legally blind.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" was all 
she managed to squeak out.

"I did tell you." Mulder looked away and 
squinted as if straining to see objects 
shrouded in the blanket of darkness.

"When, Mulder? When did you ever communicate 
how you felt toward me?" 
She was so confused. She knew she'd never 
forget a conversation like that.
 
"Oh brother, Scully."

Her head was spinning trying to follow this 
exchange.
"Look, Mulder. You opened this can of worms 
so now is definitely not the time to mock 
me."

Mulder hesitated, as if debating whether to 
continue what he'd started. Taking a deep 
breath, he went on.
"What I mean is...that's all YOU had to say to 
ME...that night in the hospital... in 
Bermuda....when I told you how I felt about 
you. You said 'Oh brother', turned your back 
and walked away."

"Mulder! you were high as a kite on morphine 
and babbling about a ghost ship in the middle 
of the Bermuda Triangle. You weren't 
yourself; you had no idea what you were 
talking about so why would I give credence to 
ANYTHING you uttered? Especially that!"

Scully was now beginning to comprehend the 
degree to which she had royally screwed up. 
It made her sick to realize how shattered 
Mulder must have been when she heartlessly 
disregarded his tender revelation. At the 
time, the only feelings she'd thought of were 
her own.

"It makes no difference whether you believe 
what I said about The Queen Anne...which , I 
might add, is THE TRUTH. However, I would 
never have said 'THAT' as you refer to it, if 
I didn't really mean it and intended for you 
to know it, no matter HOW demented I was."

The whole night and especially this moment 
was all so surreal. Scully imagined that any 
second now she would hover above the street 
lamp and see herself staring dumbfounded at 
Mulder. Everything he had said sounded like a 
disembodied voice coming by way of Surround 
Sound.

Scully became aware that he was watching her, 
expecting a response. 
Hours ticked by, or were they mere seconds? 
This was it. The turning point. The moment 
she'd been waiting for. Was he really saying 
what she thought he was saying?
For more than a year now, she'd rehearsed how 
it would happen, every possible scenario; 
what her response would be. Funny how it had 
played out much more romantically in her 
fantasies. She should have known it would 
never happen that way. What WAS she thinking? 
With all the bizarre, sometimes inexplicable 
experiences she'd managed to live through 
with Mulder by her side, why would their 
relationship mirror any type of normalcy? Who 
wanted that anyway? Ordinary was monotonous. 
Scully liked things the way they were with 
him; impromptu and exhilarating. 

Slamming the car door, she stood two feet in 
front of Mulder with her legs planted 
solidly. Even in the dark, her sapphire eyes 
bore a look of determination. Enough was 
enough.

 "Tell me again." She demanded.

"Tell you what again?" Mulder asked in a 
baffled tone.

"Please repeat everything you said to me in 
the hospital room in Bermuda and don't leave 
out a single syllable."
Now who was the lunatic?

Obediently, Mulder dug back into the drug-
induced fog of several months ago and 
repeated word for word the story of the ghost 
ship and the Nazis and how Scully saved the 
world. Then he stopped right after the part 
where she told him to close his eyes and say, 
"There's no place like home."

"Go on." Scully urged almost breathlessly.

Mulder swallowed hard. Scully watched his 
Adam's apple bob up and down once. 

"Scully?"

"What is it, Mulder." She almost couldn't 
make the words come out; her throat was so 
dry.

He reached out and grasped both her hands in 
his, caressing her smooth skin with his 
thumbs.

"I love you." 

He said it with the same deep timbre that had 
sent delicious shivers down her spine the 
first time. 
Taking a step forward, she bridged the gap 
between their bodies and wrapped her arms 
around his lower back, lifting her chin to 
meet his radiant green eyes once more. She 
quivered as Mulder's warm fingers slid into 
her silky copper hair to support her tilted 
head. He used his other hand to span the 
middle of her back and pull her firmly 
against him. Scully had never felt so alive; 
every sense was infinitely heightened.

"I love you too, Mulder. Very much."
That was the understatement of a lifetime she 
thought as she smiled up at him. 
Her eyes moved to his mouth in a silent 
invitation.

Mulder smiled back and she could feel the 
vibrations in his chest as he chuckled 
softly.
"Now do you believe me, Scully?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Mulder."

In their second floor bedroom, Christine had 
turned out the light and was about to pull 
down the shades when she noticed the couple 
embracing on the sidewalk across the street.
"Jack, come here quick!"
Her husband ran out of their bathroom, 
toothbrush in hand, obviously alarmed.
"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Isn't that Dana and Fox out there?"
Jack peeked out at the couple who was now 
kissing passionately; the man bending on 
occasion to kiss and nuzzle the woman's neck 
while she held tight to his shoulders and ran 
her fingers through his hair. He could just 
about make out the woman's petite stature and 
reddish-copper hair in the light from the 
street lamp; a dead giveaway.

"Yep, seems to be them. Now pull down the 
shade and give them some privacy."
Jack headed back to the bathroom to finish 
brushing his teeth.

"See, I told you they were perfect for each 
other. They just didn't know it yet."

A minute or two later, Chris took one last 
look out into the street below and saw 
Scully's car pulling away from the curb with 
Mulder driving and Scully in the passenger 
seat.

Jack was thinking as he settled himself into 
their king-sized bed. He called out softly to 
his wife.
"I think they knew it, Honey. But your 
little scheme didn't hurt. Now come to bed."

Chris watched the red taillights disappearing 
with a content smile on her face. 
She was delighted for her friend Dana.

"Good luck, you two." Christine whispered 
to no one in particular and then slowly 
pulled down the shade.