Gossamer: VA Rated: G Spoilers: 5th Season Keywords: none Summary: Mulder and Scully in the desert, talking to each other through tin can phones. Acknowledgments and comments at the end. A Hundred Miles of Nothing But Tin Can Phones by MD 1016 Another case in the middle of nowhere. Another never-ending trip in a rental car. The scenery that rolled past was flat and barren, tedious in its emptiness. The desert in winter. "Isn't it beautiful, Scully?" "Shut up, Mulder." She couldn't talk to him, and couldn't bear to hear his voice rattling on. He'd been trying to strike up conversations with her for the last two hours, and she'd managed to kill every one. He was worried. Good, let him sweat. "What did I do?" "Just don't talk." He was respectfully quiet for a number of miles, even though he didn't understand why. He couldn't know what was going on with her because she didn't know. The difference was, she didn't want to know. It was getting harder to breathe. "Pull over." He looked at her, his eyes full of concern. "What?" "Stop the car." The car rolled to a halt on the dirt shoulder, kicking up dry dust in a dense cloud around them. Scully didn't wait, she opened her door and stepped out into the desert, not caring if the fine red sand coated her shoes and pants. She breathed in deeply trying to clear the tension from her rib cage. "Scully? You OK?" "I'm fine," she said automatically, and raised her arms above her head to stretch. She took another deep breath. The air was dry in her lungs. "Are you angry at me?" "No." "Scully, does this have anything to do with Diana?" First name. He always used *her* first name. Goddamn bitch. "No. Why the hell should it?" "Well, I thought maybe you were upset to find her in my apartment this morning." He stood on the other side of the car, elbow hooked over the top of the door. Scully couldn't tell if he looked scared or amused. Either way it pissed her off. "I don't give a damn about Diana Fowley, or what you do or don't do with her. Your personal life is none of my business." "You're right. It's not." That said, she waited for him to continue past that last statement and explain Diana's presence in his living room, towel around her middle, wet tangles of hair that dripped rivulets down between her hulking breasts, and assure her that it was purely innocent, and that it was all some huge misunderstanding. Instead, what he said was: "You and I, Scully, we're not married, you know." Scully shifted and dropped her hands to her hips. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" "It means you're acting like I cheated on you." "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." "The silent treatment, Scully. The one word sentences you've been throwing at me since you walked into my place this morning." He stressed 'my' a little too strongly for Scully's liking. "I'm talking about the jealous girlfriend routine." Scully turned her back to him. "Like you've ever had a girlfriend long enough to know what that's like," she mumbled. About a hundred yards from the blacktop was a small boulder -- the only thing between Scully and the horizon. She headed for it, looking for refuge she knew she wouldn't find. Mulder was right behind her. "Scully? Where the hell do you think you're going?" "Rest stop," she shouted over her shoulder, not really caring if he heard her clearly or not. "Scully, wait!" He clamored after her. "Let's talk about this." "Mulder, there's nothing to talk about." He climbed up the rock and sat beside her. "I needed a break." "Scully, why can't you be honest with me?" "Honest about what?" "About how upset it made you to see Diana in my living room." She shook her head. "I think you want me to be jealous." He guffawed. "Oh, right. That's it. I slept with Diana last night just to make you insanely jealous --" He cut off when Scully turned away from him to hide the anguish she knew was written all over her face. "Jesus," he cursed. The horizon slowly darkened. It was none of her business, Scully tried to remind herself. She didn't want to care. But she did. "Do you love her?" "I...I used to. Very much." Scully nodded. Her heart was beating somewhere around her ankles. "Scully, I'm sorry -" "Please. Don't." Scully sighed. "Anyway, I'm not upset about this morning." "Then what is it?" She looked down at her knuckle. "I don't know." "How can I fix it if I don't know what the problem is?" She looked up to the earnest honesty in his face. "Mulder, you can't fix this. But thank you for wanting to." For a few minutes they sat together watching the orange sun melt into the pink sunset. "Are you leaving me?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "The X-Files?" "No." He picked at a cuticle on his left hand. "I thought you might be." "Because of this morning?" He shrugged. "We haven't been talking much lately. Outside of work." "Mulder, we've never talked much outside of work." "I know," he said, and the tone in his voice made her look at him. His face was completely neutral. "I think we should start." "Talking?" "Outside of work." Scully bit the inside of her cheek. Talking. Outside of work. "Is that what you want, Mulder?" "I can't lose you." He looked away, his voice straining. "Not when we've been through so much. Not when you...you...I can't lose you." "You won't lose me, Mulder --" "I feel like I am." "Not completely." He snorted. "Diana said that to me once." His unintentional blow caught her square in the chest. "Well," she breathed, "I'm not Diana." "No," he said quietly. "No, you're not." He licked his lips. "Scully, you're so much more." Scully sighed. Then why wasn't it me stepping out of your shower this morning? She wanted to say it, but couldn't. So she just sat there beside him, staring out over the desert while the last bits of the sun died behind the horizon. The End Acknowledgments: This story is dedicated to Dianora, who came up with the best line in the whole piece. Dia, you're the best.