"Say Anything"
an X-Files fic
by Langleigh
Rating:  PG
Category: S
Key Words: Epiphany, Mulder pov, implied Mulder/Reyes UST 
Archiving:  Ephemeril, Gossamer, XFMU, and for Julie to do with 
as she likes.  All others please ask before you archive this.  
Feedback:  Langleigh75@cs.com
Spoilers: Empedocles, DeadAlive, Three Words
Summary:  Four Agents come to a crossroads, but are they ready 
to turn the page to a new chapter in their lives?
Disclaimers:  The X-Files, Mulder, Scully, Doggett, Reyes et al 
belong to Chris Carter, FOX and 1013.  They aren't mine.  I 
don't own them.  I don't own anything.  Basically, I'm a poor 
nut trying to amuse myself.
Dedications/Authors Notes:   Well, I'm going to perfectly honest 
with you.  If you're a die-hard Shipper or you don't like 
Doggett or Reyes, then you shouldn't read this story.  You won't 
like it.  In fact, if you do read it, no matter how well-written 
it was, you're going to want to flame me.  If you do, be 
prepared to be ignored, because personally, I think flames are 
childish and inappropriate behavior.  So... if you even think 
you're going to flame me, just save us both the trouble and 
don't bother reading this story.

That being said, I feel I should explain myself.  I am a 
Shipper, or at least, I have called myself one since Season 5.  
I love Mulder & Scully dearly, and don't deny that they love 
each other.  However, Season 8 is a whole new game for me.  
While I am a Shipper at heart, I cannot deny that Doggett is 
head over heels for our Scully.  And after last night's episode, 
I also cannot deny the possibility of something else-the 
chemistry between Mulder and Reyes.  Maybe I'm vulnerable 
because I'm hanging out on the SkepticsandBelievers list (e-mail 
azarsuerte@hotmail.com for details) or maybe I just see special 
there.  Or I could be temporarily nuts.  Whatever the reason, 
I'm writing this story anyway.  Will I still write MSR?  Yes.  
Do I still think Mulder and Scully are perfect for each other?  
Yes.  But I find that I can write all things, because there are 
many facets to this show and its characters, just as there are 
many facets to my heart.  And my heart is telling me to write 
this regardless of what any critics say.  



"Say Anything"
 Part 1:  Mulder

I must admit, I've been feeling kind of useless and out of place 
lately.  It could have something to do with having been abducted 
and then dead and buried for three months.  Or it could be 
because my partner, the only woman in the world I ever truly 
felt a strong connection to, is about to give birth and I don't 
have the nerve to ask her if the child is mine.  Sometimes I 
think this has a lot to do with my feelings of inadequacy... but 
then I see him.  I see him talking to her and working with her, 
and I see how her life went on without me.  I see things that I 
don't think she does, in fact.  I see her trusting him and 
counting on him in ways I'm not sure she ever relied on me.  And 
then I see him... storing that trust in his heart and guarding 
it-guarding her-so fervently.  And until recently, I hated him 
for it: hated him for her trust of him and for his love of her.

And then I got this phone call... a woman I never met before 
asking for help on an X-File of all things. The X-Files has been 
my life's passion for so many years, and now it is the one thing 
I can't go back to... because the FBI gave my job to him.  I 
told her to call him, told her that I couldn't help her.  Scully 
had just been wheeled into a room and I wanted to be with her.  
I wanted to keep her safe-and him out.  Even as I spoke his 
name, I could see him standing there, hovering outside her door 
like a vulture waiting to feed upon her.  

And then she-this woman I did not know-told me that she couldn't 
go to him.  It had to do with him.  Everything has to do with 
*him*, I wanted to tell her.  But I didn't; I went to that 
basement instead.  

And that's when I saw her for the first time... standing there 
pouring over old files listed under the name "Doggett."  Files 
for a case I never knew existed.  Held by a woman I suddenly 
couldn't get out of my mind.  

At first, she seemed nothing like Scully, and yet the more I 
listened to her, the more I worked with her while Scully lay in 
that hospital bed *not* needing me, I found that she challenged 
me every bit as much as Scully used to.  She awoke something in 
me that had been dead since my return from the grave-passion for 
life and a desire to move forward.  I also found something else-
a kindred spirit.  Someone who believes in the paranormal and 
the inexplicable as much as I do and isn't afraid to show it.  I 
quickly realized that if this woman had been assigned to the X-
Files all those years ago, we wouldn't be sitting in some musty 
basement right now.  She'd have seen to it that the world did 
not ignore our work.  

And now the case is over, and here I am with Scully once again, 
but a part of me doesn't want to be.  That's a hard thing to say 
because I still love her.  I'm still connected to her, but I'm 
starting to realize that the part of her I'm connected to was 
left behind when she moved on without me.  And she did move on.  
She's been dropping clues to that effect for a while now, but 
I've been too blinded by my own misery to see it.  I finally did 
see it, though.  It was there in her soft smile when she said 
Doggett was worth it-worth helping, worth getting to know-and it 
was there when she said she liked Special Agent Reyes.  

"I like her."  Do you know what that is?  That's a code for 
"she's a lot like you, Mulder.  You'd like her if you gave her 
the chance."  Well, I did like her.  I liked her from the moment 
she called me out in my own-what *used to be*--my own office.  
She said she hoped my friend got better so there'd be at least 
one person in that basement with an open mind.  That's when she 
had me.  Up until then, I'd been trying to keep her at a 
distance-to keep the X-Files at a distance-but as soon as she 
said the words, implying that *I * was being close-minded, I 
knew I had to give in.  "You'll say anything, won't you?" I'd 
asked her, smiling like I haven't smiled in ages.  At that 
moment, I felt so light-hearted and free.  Being with her makes 
me feeling that way.

Being with Scully right now makes me feel the weight of all that 
went wrong in my search for the Truth.  I know she doesn't mean 
it, but when I'm with her I feel so trapped sometimes: trapped 
in the past, stuck in a limbo that began when I was abducted and 
only ended the moment I smiled and took up Monica Reyes's 
challenge.  I think, thanks to the connection we still share, 
Scully knows this to be true.  Funny thing is, she knows and yet 
I don't think she minds.  

When she thanked me for the doll, saying how I gave her courage 
to carry on, I knew that she would understand what I was about 
to say.  "Scully," I take a deep breath; this is harder than 
ever could have imagined.  

"Yes, Mulder?"  Her words are so simple, so perfect and to the 
point... so Scully.  

"Do you... would you... mind if I stepped out for awhile?  
There's..."

"Something you have to do?"  she asks, filling in my sentence 
while I flummox about.  I smile and nod once.  She smiles back 
slowly.  She knows.  "Of course, you know I'll be alone until 
the pizza man gets here."  

"I'm sure you'll manage without me," I say, kissing her 
thankfully on the forehead and all but rushing to the door in my 
haste.  I stop and turn around to say good-bye.

"Don't say anything, Mulder.  Just go."

x x x x x   

Part 2:  Reyes

My flight leaves tomorrow and I'll be back in New Orleans where 
I belong.  It's not only where I work, it's home.  Except lately 
there's been something nagging at the back of my head-besides 
that big old knot where the oxygen tank hit me-telling me there 
might be something else here for me.  And that feeling has left 
me with no desire to leave just yet.  I've never taken my 
premonitions for granted, and whatever the outcome, they've 
never let me down, despite what John thinks.

He thinks misinterpreted what was happening on this last case-
and what happened to his son.  Even now, after it was all over-
after he saved my life-he insists that there was no connection, 
between me and him or the phenomena which brought us together 
through the death of his son.  I can't help but think there was-
and may still be.  Something is definitely at work here-behind 
the scenes-pulling us together, bringing us here to this place.  
By us I mean John, myself, Dana Scully... and... 

His face springs into my mind like a jack-in-the-box coming out 
of hiding.  He tells me that there's an opening in the X-Files I 
might be good for.  Something in his voice triggers something 
deep inside me. A need to know this man, to work with him more 
closely.  I can sense the anger and bitter resentment that 
lingers behind his flippant remark.  He tries to hide it, tries 
to hide behind Agent Scully's frail condition, but I can see 
through the mask.  "I hope your friend gets better.  Then there 
will be at least one person down here with an open mind."

Even now, I can't believe I said those words to him-to a man who 
had just literally returned from the dead.  Nor can I believe 
the response my words earned me.  The smile... so big and 
genuine, hinting at flirtatious as he asked me if I would say 
anything.  Anything I believe in, I told him, and again I was 
rewarded with that smile.    A woman could lose herself in that 
smile. 

Fox Mulder... is he what connects the four of us?  Sometimes I 
wonder about that.  Everything leads me back to him.  Scully was 
his partner for seven years.  He disappears, and John is called 
in to look for him.  Then John calls on me to help him.  All to 
find Agent Fox Mulder.  You see how it all keeps coming back to 
him-back to this man whose smiling face so enthralls me?  

You couldn't have live in New Orleans for as long as I have and 
not believe in some sort of magic.  I'm here to tell you that 
this man has some sort of voodoo in him, and whatever it is, it 
draws people to him, or it draws me, at least.  I can't deny the 
magic of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes, so like stars or 
glittering crystal shards.  Working with him these past couple 
of days has been an experience I shall never forget-one I never 
want to forget, ever.  He listens to me, hears what I say.  So 
unlike John.  Don't get me wrong, I like John Doggett very much.  
We became close friends after the death of his son, but nothing 
about him makes me feel the way the slightest glance from Mulder 
does.  Nothing makes feel so... alive... as that smile. 

Fox Mulder... Just the thought of the man brings him like a 
spectre to my mind.  There he is now, in the doorway, entering 
this shabby hotel barroom.... walking towards me.

"Is this seat taken?"  the spectre asks, and it takes me a few 
minutes to realize that he's real, not a figment of my mind.  I 
nod, and he sits.  I'm speechless for a moment, and in my 
silence, he orders us both a round of "whatever the lady's 
having" which turns out to be rum and Coke.  I finish the nearly 
empty glass in my hand before accepting the refill.  We both 
seem unsure of what to say.   So instead of talking, we just 
finish our drinks in a silence that is not awkward, but 
surprisingly comfortable. 

The area around us at the bar is starting to fill up and I look 
around.  Finding an empty booth in the back, secluded enough for 
two people looking to escape into the moment, I ask if he would 
like a little more privacy.  He looks at me and grins.  

"I thought you'd never ask."  The words are warm and jovial, and 
I find I cannot move, having briefly melted into my stool.  All 
I can think is no man has ever effected me this way before and 
probably never will.  

We make our way to the corner booth and sit down facing each 
other.  After the waitress brings another round of drinks-my 
third and Mulder's second-I work up the confidence to ask him 
how he knew where to find me. 

To my surprise, he blushes and looks down at the table in 
embarrassment.  "Actually... I, uh... called your friend, Agent 
Doggett."  

"You called John?!"  I can hardly believe what I'm hearing and 
it shows in my voice.  "And he told you where I was... just like 
that?"

Mulder looks up, an even more flustered look on his face than 
before.  "Well... actually it wasn't as easy as you think."    I 
never said I thought it was easy at all.  John practically 
loathes this man for reasons I'm sure I'll never fully 
understand.  "He, uh... he gave me the third degree."  Mulder 
laughs, a little strained but charming nonetheless.  

"Why would he do a thing like that?"  I ask, smiling along with 
him.  

"You probably won't believe this, but he wanted to know what my 
intentions were."

"You intentions?  Towards me?"  Even as I ask the question, 
things become clear in my mind.  John doesn't trust this man, 
and I'm sure I know why.  Agent Scully... and her baby.  It's no 
secret that most the people at the Bureau think that her baby is 
Mulder's.  John says that even AD Skinner believes the two 
agents have been lovers.  John's trying to protect me.  

"Yeah," he replies with a sexy chuckle.  "Silly, isn't it?"

"Silly," I echo, laughing with him momentarily.  Then I drop the 
bomb on him.  "So... what exactly *are* your intentions, Agent 
Mulder?"  I ask as formally as I can while still wanting him to 
rock my world.  I can't help it, I realize too late.  I'm 
addicted to this man.  

He laughs, and it is an amused laughter tinged with a sultry 
heat.  "Actually, I thought I'd just get to know you, *Agent 
Reyes*, " he says.  "I have a feeling we have a lot more in 
common than just the FBI."  

As he says it, he leans in on his elbows, which brings his face 
closer to mine.  Dangerously close.  I open my mouth to respond, 
but his index finger flicks out, shushing me with a gentle touch 
on the lips.  

"Shhh..." he whispers, his voice deep and masculine and his 
breath warm on my cheek as his faces closes the ever shrinking 
gap between us.  "Shhh... don't say anything." 

x x x x x

Part 3: Doggett

I remember thinking when we buried Luke that the worst was over 
with.  No more worry about having to find him, not more 
wondering what I could do differently.  But I was wrong.  The 
worst was trying to live each day knowing he couldn't and 
wanting so much to trade places with him.  I remember how hard 
it was to box up his things and store them away.  Touching each 
toy was a lesson in pain I never wanted relive.

Only I have relived it... in a million different ways.  I'll be 
driving somewhere and pass a school yard full of kids playing, 
and I'll think of Luke.  Or there will be a boy with his mom in 
the grocery store, and for a split second he'll have Luke's 
smiling face.  But it won't be real, and the only way I can see 
my son is by opening my wallet and looking at the last school 
picture he'll ever have taken.

Just like I'm doing now.

The phone rings and I close my wallet before answering.  It's 
Agent Mulder, which surprises me considering I figured he'd be 
spending the evening with Agent Scully.  She went home from the 
hospital today and I know he was with her when she left.

"What can I do for you tonight, Agent Mulder?" I ask.

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find Agent Reyes."

There's something in his voice that tells me he's interested in 
more than just finding her.  I noticed it the day when they 
dragged me out there to look at that poor dead woman.  A sort of 
sparkle in the way he looked at her.  I also noticed the way 
Monica was looking at him when she didn't think anyone was 
looking.  At first I thought it was just professional curiosity, 
but then she mentioned how good he looked considering what he'd 
been through, and I knew it was more than that.

Now here he is calling me asking about her. I wonder what there 
is between them and hope it's nothing.

"Why do you want to know?"  I ask, and he starts stuttering like 
a mindless idiot.  Something about having nothing better to do 
and being lonely.  I want to ask him about agent Scully and 
remind him that if he's so lonely there is someplace he could 
be, but I don't.  Maybe there's a reason he's not with Scully 
right now.

All that stuttering is starting to get annoying.  "Look," I say, 
"Monica is my friend.  We look out for each other.  I'm not 
about to tell you where she is unless I know what your 
intentions are."  I know I sound a little menacing, but I can't 
help it.  Monica's had a few bad relationships and I can't bear 
to see her get hurt again.  Especially not by this man.

He tells me that he just wants to talk to her--thank her for an 
interesting week and wish her a good life, that sort of thing.  
It's probably the best excuse I'm going to get out of him, so I 
give him the name of her hotel and tell him that she's supposed 
to leave in the morning.

I hope I did the right thing, I honestly do.  I think Monica is 
smitten with him, and like I said, she hasn't had the best track 
record with men.  And as for Mulder, well I don't know much 
about him at him.  I've heard a lot of rumors about him, though.  
A lot of rumors.  And most of those have to do with him and his 
former partner.  Seems a lot of people they were lovers before 
his disappearance.  When it became clear that she was pregnant, 
those same people said the baby had to be his.  So, I gotta ask 
myself... if Scully's his woman and she's having his baby, then 
why is do I get the impression that he's hot for my friend?

What kind of man would turn his back on the woman who was 
carrying his child for a one night stand--if that's what he's 
looking for?  Especially when the woman was a warm, caring 
person like Dana Scully.  Does he realize all she's been through 
for him?  All the time she spent looking for him and worrying 
about him?  Doesn't he know that she hid her pregnancy from the 
Bureau so they would let her continue to work on the X-Files... 
all so she could keep looking for him?

It just doesn't make sense.

But then, it's not like I really know this man.  He's not the 
one I've spent all these months working side by side with.  That 
would be Scully.

Agent Dana Scully... why do I always smile when I think of her?  
She's special, that's why.  There's something about her... 
something that I can't put my finger on, but I know I like it.  
She makes me feel like a hero, and at the same time makes me 
feel vulnerable.  I treasure each moment we work together, but 
guard myself to keep her from knowing my secret.

I'm in love with her.  And I'll always love her, even if she is 
carrying his child, and even if she never returns my love.

Outside I can hear it start it rain, but inside the walls are 
starting to close in on me.  I need some fresh air and time to 
clear my head.  So I put on a coat, grab an umbrella and head 
out into the night.  I decide to leave my cell phone behind.  
That way, if anyone else calls looking for me, I don't have to 
say anything.

x x x x x

Part 4: Scully

I don't know why I thought Mulder would come back tonight or why 
I actually waited up for him.  He didn't say he would come back, 
after all.  But here I am at fifteen minutes to midnight, 
waiting up for him like a worried wife.

Only I'm not really worried; I know where he is, and I kind of 
approve, actually.

He went to be with Agent Reyes.  Not that this is surprising in 
any way--I knew from the moment I first met Monica Reyes that 
she was more like Mulder than anyone else I knew.  Her claims of 
tolerance towards certain theories and of open-mindedness made 
me think of Mulder right away.  I knew then that he'd like her 
if they ever met.

And I was right.  Mulder warmed up to her almost immediately.

Some people--a lot of people, if truth be told--might think it 
strange that I would approve of Mulder's choice tonight.  I 
mean, how *could* he leave me for another woman at a time like 
this?  What would they have me do? Act like an ex-girlfriend 
bemoaning the fact that I fixed my former lover up with someone 
new and they actually hit it off?  It's silly.  I have no claims 
on Mulder. I never have.  Oh, sure... there have been times in 
our seven year partnership that we came close to crossing the 
line between friendship and something more, but nothing ever 
came to pass.  Despite what half the Bureau thinks.

Yeah, I know what they think; I've heard the rumors.  They think 
Mulder and I were lovers and that this baby is his.  Even 
Skinner thinks so, and he's known us both for how long?

I came to terms the those rumors a long time ago, to be honest.  
They don't mean anything to me now, except as just another part 
of the mystery surrounding my partner and myself.  Sometimes, I 
even enjoy that mystery.

And sometimes I just wish I could share it with someone... 
someone outside of it all.  Sometimes I even wish *I* were 
outside of it all...

... and able to walk away from Spooky Mulder's fairy tales and 
live a normal life.

Lately, I've even wondered if someone hasn't opened the door 
that leads to the normal, everyday world I left behind seven and 
half years ago to become a part of the X-Files.  I can see a 
small shaft of light shining in the gloom of my existence, and 
in it, the silhouette of a man.

He looks an awful lot like John Doggett, to tell the truth.

Agent Doggett is the kind of man I would have loved to be 
partnered with a long time ago.  He's a solid, up-standing man 
who does his job the best way he knows how.  He's honest and 
trust-worthy.  And he's all heart.  No one cares more about the 
people around him than Doggett.

He even cared--cares--for me despite my attempts to push him 
away.

I have wonder about that.  Why would a man care so much for a 
woman who has been so cold to him?  I felt I had to be cold, had 
to keep my distance.  If I didn't, I'd lose my edge--that edge 
that sharpened under Mulder's teaching--and I'd never find 
Mulder.  I felt I needed that edge, needed the well-honed 
cynicism and paranoid wisdom to keep me focused on finding my 
friend.

And to keep me from doing what one small part of me wished to 
do--get to know my *new* partner, this man who is so like I used 
to be.

So I pushed him away, distancing myself from him in every way I 
could.  Even refusing any familiarity to grow between us.  Agent 
Doggett.  Agent Scully.  But never Doggett, never Scully, never 
Dana or John.

And that leads me back to why I'm sitting on this couch waiting 
for Mulder to come back and knowing that he won't--because I'm 
lonely.  I'm lonely and I can't sleep because the baby is 
kicking too hard... and Mulder's the one I *didn't* push away.  
So I'm waiting for him, like a fool, when I should just...

I reach for the phone, and dial a number I know well enough by 
now.  It rings... and rings... and then I hang up.

I sigh and stand up.  Maybe I can get to sleep after all, I try 
to reason.

A knock at the door stops me before I make it to the bedroom.  
"Coming!"  I calling out, padding over to answer it.

I open the door just in time to see John Doggett turning his 
back on me.

"Agent Doggett!"  I exclaim.  I hadn't expected it to be him, 
but I'm glad it is.

"Sorry to bother you, Agent Scully," he says awkwardly, his New 
York accent turning "bother" in "bothah" in a way that always 
makes me smile to myself.  This time I share that smile with 
him.

"It's no bother, Agent Doggett.  Actually..." I feel suddenly 
self-conscious admitting this to him.  "I just tried to call 
you."

"I, ah, left my cell phone at home," he says.  "Should I come 
in?" He smiles then, a sweet, friendly smile replacing the 
gloomy look that had been there only moments before.

I step aside, letting him into the apartment.  "Something 
troubling you?" I ask.

"Does it show?" is his comeback.  I nod sympathetically.  "What 
about you, Agent Scully?  What's got you out of bed this late at 
night?"

"Can't sleep," I reply, patting my stomach just over the spot 
where my child's little foot is still kicking.  He must be doing 
jumping jacks in there.

We both smile, the same rueful smile, and I remember that he 
used to be a family man.  My baby still kicking me, I am 
suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of connection to this man.  One 
never felt--or allowed myself to feel--before.  He knows what it 
is to fear for a child's safety... to fear for someone you love.

But there is more than just *that* which connects us; I know 
that now.  It is what prompted me to call him just now and what 
brought him to my doorstep of his own volition.  Something 
special that has been trying to grow between us for a long time 
now, but could only do so after Mulder was recovered.  Something 
that I've been repressing.

Until now.

"Would you like something?"  I ask him.  "I was thinking of 
putting on some tea."

"Whatever you're having is fine," he says.  When I return with 
the tea a few minutes later, he's sitting on the couch, resting 
as comfortably as if he were meant to be there.  And more at 
ease than Mulder had been earlier tonight, I note as I sit next 
to him.

He takes a sip of the tea and sets his cup on the coffee table.  
When he looks at me, I can tell that something is on his mind.  
"I got a call from Agent Mulder tonight," he says.

I nod.  "He's with Monica right now."  The simple, softly spoken 
admission shocks him.

"And that doesn't bother you?" he asks incredulously.

I shake my head slowly, watching his reaction.  "It's for the 
best, really," I say.  It is for the best, I realize even as I 
say the words.  Mulder and I will always be close friends, but 
something happened in his absence...  We'd reached a fork in the 
road, and for once, we'd chosen different paths.

Doggett lowers his head for second, half-closed lids hiding his 
eyes from mine.  Then he looks up, and I can see the burning 
question in his eyes--what about the baby?  But he doesn't ask 
it.  Instead, he slips an arm around my shoulder, and I allow 
myself to drawn closer to him.

There will be time for questions later.

We sit there--me with my head resting against his chest, him 
lazily stroking my hair--in a warm, comforting silence.  Each of 
content in knowing that, for now, we don't have to say anything.

(the end)