Still Fighting the Future
...The Hallway. Mulder runs after her. "You want to tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience, you can," he says urgently. "But you're wrong." They're standing very, very close to each other in the hallway. She reminds him for the millionth time that she was originally brought in as his partner to debunk him, to rein him in, to shut him down. "But you saved me!" Mulder insists. Scully flinches a little bit, because half of her knows he's right and the other half just wants him to toss her against the wall and kiss her already, dammit. "As difficult and as frustrating as it's been sometimes," Mulder continues forcefully, "your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me, a thousand times over." Scully furrows her brow. "You kept me honest," Mulder says. "You made me a whole person." Sniff. That line gets me every time, dammit, in every single movie I've ever heard it in. They stare at each other, Scully's eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I owe you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing," Mulder finishes. Stare. Stare. "I don't know if I want to do this alone," he admits. Teary stare. Pleading gaze. "I don't even know if I can. And if I quit now, they win," he says. Pursed lips. Pursed lips. Sad face. Scully gathers Mulder into her arms and kisses his fevered brow. She looks at his face for a moment, then touches her forehead to his, in the Time-Honored Forehead Touch of Co-Working Soulmates. Meaningful Stare. Scully reaches out and grasps Mulder by the neck. She tilts her head, tearfully, and gazes at him. Stare. And then Mulder holds her face and they gaze at each other and he makes these puppy-dog eyes, and her eyes search his face and then slowly, slowly, slowly Mulder goes in for the kiss, and they're about a sixteenth of an inch away from kissing when that damn bee stings her and she cries out and grips her neck. David Duchovny makes a very funny "goddammit!" expression and Mulder sort of rubs Scully's back and asks her whether she's all right. Holding the bee between her fingernails, Scully sort of breathes that she got stung. Mulder's about to go back to what they were doing, when Scully looks at him, scared, and cottonmouths that something is wrong. She basically collapses in his arms. As Mulder lays her on the ground in the hallway, Scully manages to give him her bullet; it's something very like anaphlactic shock, although, she says, she has no allergy. Mulder races frantically into his apartments and calls 911, barking to the operator on the other line that he has an agent down.