The case was solved, the killer caught and all was done but the paperwork.

Only the suspect got injured.

Just over the edge of her laptop screen, Scully could see Mulder chatting with several of the Detectives and SWAT team members who had been involved with the case. Every now and then a burst of laughter would explode in their midst. Scully nibbled on a donut that the receptionist had politely left beside her and eyed the group wistfully. It was not just the men. This was a cheerfully co-ed group of law enforcement professionals enjoying the aftermath of a successful hunt.

She had not been invited.

She wanted to be happy for him. She tried to tell herself that she was happy for him. Mulder was relaxed and casually enjoying being one of a dozen. It was something he rarely got the chance to be. So she should be happy for him. She was his friend. She was his partner. She was...

...jealous as hell.

All those times she told herself she just had not figured out the right passwords. All those times she had tried to tell herself it was just that they were not comfortable around a female agent. That she was not the only reason that nearby laughter tended to fade to awkward silences and hastily beaten retreats when she crashed the party. 

Damn it.

Mulder was not supposed to do this. He was not supposed to walk into her life and effortlessly succeed where she had almost killed herself trying and still failed. He could have at least had the decency to be flashing a little leg. But no. He was charming and chatting and smiling with several men she knew were happily married and who had never been more than perfectly polite. To both her bodies. 

Damn him.

Damn her for the fact it still hurt.

Mulder caught up to her in the precinct parking lot.

"Hey Scully, you up for some nightlife? We've been invited out to the local watering hole for beer and pretzels. I'm told they make a mean nacho platter."

She was not going to say anything. Not a word. She was happy for him. She was going back to the motel. He paused, and her heart sank as his expression went from enthusiastic to wary. See, she told herself. It is you. Way to go. 

"What's wrong?"

Fix this. Open your mouth and explain that this is not his fault.

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Call me if you need a sober ride back to the motel."

She unlocked the car and was fighting with the seat adjustment when he slipped into the front passenger seat. The seat jerked backwards another notch giving her a few seconds to avoid looking at him. She did not want to explain, but he was obviously not going anywhere. Finally she started the car. 

He was quiet as she drove. In silent apology for pulling him away from dinner, she turned into the lot of a large shopping mall and parked near the food court. She would have waited, but he stood looking at her until she got out of the car and followed him. She was surprised when he headed for the Wal-Mart entrance and trailed after him as he forged into the grocery section. Mulder's room had a kitchenette and he grabbed a couple bags of frozen Chicken Alfredo, drinks, and snack food. She was surprised to see him grab a couple of classic movies that they both owned on DVD. The local field office had lent them a VCR for the investigation so the movies were VHS to boot.

She raised an eyebrow curiously.

He grinned. "Color."

Oh.

As he happily settled into final preparations for an evening with her, she began to feel a bit better about ruining his night out. She was still off-center and slightly depressed, but if Mulder could make a determined effort to have a good time, the least she could do was meet him halfway. She picked out a couple more movies and turned to ask what he thought only to discover that he had vanished. 

Thinking he might have headed back to the snack food section, she paid for the movies and wandered towards the front of the store. She was just about to call him on her cellphone when she spotted him over in the Health and Beauty section. Oh God. That would just be the topper to a humiliating day. 

Please.

Pleasepleaseplease.

Please don't let her have started her period. She was contemplating a mad duck and run for the parking lot when she realized he was staring with avid concentration at boxes of hair color.

Puzzled, she drifted up beside him and watched as he reached out a hand and lightly brushed his fingers against the nylon samples. She was about to ask him just what he thought he was doing when he glanced up and saw her. He snatched his hand back and spun to face her. From the nauseatingly seasick color of his skin, she assumed he had just flushed bright red.

Ick.

Without thinking, she pushed him two aisles down and grabbed the test bottle of concealer. He raised both eyebrows, but stood patiently as she smoothed a small amount of the greenish lotion onto his face. The greenish tint faded to light grey as the red tones were reduced and she took a flyer on the color of the foundation. It looked about right and she sighed with relief as her normal skin color more or less reasserted itself.

She took another look at her hair and shuddered.

Mulder sighed as she handed him his basket and dragged him back the way they had come. He did not protest until they were back beside the boxes of hair color and she held one up beside his face to judge the color. He looked at it and batted her hand away.

"What do you think you are doing? No way."

"Wha...? Mulder."

His hands clapped to his head protectively. "No."

"Jesus, Mulder. It's temporary. It won't hurt."

"Not a chance."

"Damn it, Mulder..."

"No! You can slather make-up on me until I look like Ms. Saigon, but the hair stays."

"But..."

"No."

"Damn it! It's my hair and I'm the one who has to look at it. It's green and yellow. Green and yellow, Mulder. If I were a horse, I'd eat it." Frustrated she flopped down on a nearby bench. He turned until he faced her, chewing hard on her lower lip. His lower lip. 

Whatever.

He stared at her for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Scully, I've never seen the color of your hair."

She jerked her head up to look at him, startled by the note of bitterness in the soft words.

"It belongs to everyone else. Skinner. Frohike. The bloody motel clerk. Everyone but me." He raised his head, unreadable emotion churning in his eyes." I am going to spend the next day or week or however long we stay like this checking out every mirror until what it looks like is so far imbedded in my memory I'll see it until I die. It belongs to me. It's mine. If you want to take it away, you're damn well going to have to shoot me."

Time shifted and slowed as he stared at her. For one long moment, all she could see was his eyes. The odd clarity and crystal intensity sucked her in, and she almost put out a hand to stop herself from falling. She blinked. What...? She shifted uncomfortably as the inevitable occurred. Damn it. She was getting tired of this. Up and down like an elevator all damn day. Who the hell got turned on by the sound of someone pouring coffee? Worse, half the time, the reaction seemed completely disconnected from anything that was actually going on around her.

She closed her eyes.

"Scully?"

There were so many questions in that single word. He had been patient. If she zigged, he would zag until she stopped running. He would pop microwave popcorn and play cheesy movies and grin at her in all the right places. There were days when that was the only thing that saved her sanity. Mulder being Mulder. The one thing she counts on. 

"I intimidated the victim today, when I questioned her."

Somewhere behind her, the intercom crackled. A child howled angrily and the wheels on a passing cart squealed. All of it registered. She knew that. But she still had the eerie feeling that the only thing she could hear was the sound of his breathing. 

"I know I don't connect with them the way you do, but I don't normally terrify them. It wasn't just because she thought I was male because I couldn't connect with the suspect either. He never even opened his mouth until I left the room. Hell, I'm oh-for-three. I don't know what I did to offend the rest of them." 

He laughed.

A sharp cut-off sound that held bitter discovery and no amusement. Shocked, her eyes snapped open and she watched as he dropped onto the bench beside her and laughed again.

"Offend. Jesus, Scully. How...?" He pressed his forehead against his fingertips. Finally he sighed and twisted his head to look at her. " What did you expect? Male bonding?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little."

"I dare you to find the man who would slap Skinner on the ass and invite him for a beer."

"Mulder..."

"I'm the kid who would have spent his high school years getting stuffed into lockers if I hadn't been helping the school win medals, Scully. My aggressive tendencies are situational, not confrontational."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you get away with a hell of a lot I couldn't because you're a woman."

"Are you insane?"

"Can you honestly tell me you could see me as some cock-swinging commando?"

Well, no.

Mulder snorted. "I'm about as dominant as your average cream puff. When's the last time you saw me pissing in a circle?" He hesitated thoughtfully, then added, "Besides around you." 

He waited. 

She did not answer.

"I don't particularly care who is in charge and I'm fully aware that most of those guys could tie me in a pretzel. It shows in my body language. You on the other hand, don't see any threat. You look at them the way you normally would. Basic threat analysis, but not too concerned. As a woman, you're dominant and assertive. You've intentionally learned to project that confidence as well as an image of being larger than you physically are. That translates a whole hell of alot differently when you're a foot taller and male, Scully. As a man, those traits come across as aggressive as hell. The fact that you are not self-conscious about it means you're either a cocky son-of-a-bitch or seriously scary."

He hesitated.

"You judge people, Scully. It's how you were brought up. It makes you a good cop. My empathy is what makes me a good profiler. All those guys out there weren't seeing me, they were seeing someone like your father or Skinner. Despite the fact that you can, you aren't generally in a position where you need to take control so you don't. You could if you wanted to, though and that's what they are seeing. Someone to take seriously. A future Assisstant Director. It's what they are responding to. It's the same thing you respond to. Someone taking control."

His eyes darkened for a moment,and she was certain he was about to say something else. An expression close to regret passed over his face and then it was gone. He deliberately smirked and the unholy glee that suddenly appeared in his eyes warned her. He grinned. 

"Of course, the women just see you pissing in very big circles around your partner."

She choked. 

He waggled his eyebrows at her as his grin widened. "You are sooooo taken, Agent Mulder."

She stood abruptly.

"Watching me from across the room. Talking to me for hours on end. Asking my opininon all the time. It's quite pathetic really."

She grabbed the basket of food and headed for the cash register.

"You've completely ruined my reputation."

She was not listening. She was not.

"Of course, putting my hand on your back and ending up with your hand on my ass didn't do much for yours..."

9mm. Single shot.

She was going to shoot him.

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