Disclaimer: Am I Chris Carter? Yes? Well then. Mulder and Scully are mine! All mine! Oh, wait... I'm not Chris Carter? Darn, I guess they don't belong to me after all. But I'm still playing with them anyways, because they're just too much fun to leave all to one person!

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Scully stood in the pouring rain. It had soaked through her cloths long ago, but she didn't feel the cold. Her hair was dark and plastered to her head in waves. Around her, the world was dark and blurry.

But the world around her was of no interest. She was remembering, a time so many years ago when she'd stood in a graveyard with a crazy profiler and an empty coffin and laughed.

She'd had no idea what she was getting into. All she'd known was that she did things by the book, Mulder didn't. She was logical, he was intuitive. She needed proof, to Mulder, proof was tantamount to futileness. It was crazy to think they would work.

But here he stood, and here she stood.

He had that grin on his face, like when he'd just seen her do something unexpected or uncharacteristic, and he couldn't wait to tease her about it.

But it wasn't her he was looking at. He was staring into the muzzy grey wall erected by the fog and driving deluge, with a faraway look in his eyes. Chasing after conspiracies and little grey men even in his mind.

He seemed to sense her gaze and turned to look at her. His expression changed to one of open curiosity, cocking his head to the side as if to ask her what she was looking at.

When she said nothing, he grinned. It was the same grin that lit his face when he'd just seen something amazing and unexplainable, like a light hovering in the sky or a glimpse of some haunting spirit.

But this time it was directed at her.

Scully shook the water from her eyes, wondering how many times she'd missed that same grin without realizing that it wasn't a UFO he was looking at, it was her.

She wondered how she'd possibly missed that grin.

"Whadda ya say we bust this popsicle stand, Scully?" He asked her cheerfully. "I bet there's a nice greasy diner within driving distance of… here."

She returned his child-like joy with a grin of her own. "Sure Mulder. After all, there's got to be one fast-food place in America whose cuisine we haven't sampled yet."

"As discerning connoisseurs of the finest American tradition, I believe we owe it to our patrons to explore all the available options."

He linked his arm in hers, pulling her towards the car. She went without protest. His damp warmth soaked into her through the rough fabric of their coats, making her realize how cold the rest of her was by comparison. The dry interior of their rental car was suddenly looking very inviting.

She shivered as she pulled the door shut, staring out the windshield. There was a muffled thump as Mulder's door closed, and a click as he pulled his seatbelt into place. The rain beat a resounding tempo on the roof, filling the silence with muffled drumbeats.

Mulder glanced over at her. "Where to now?"

She looked at him. His gaze was open and guileless.

She shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious for reasons she couldn't place. "You're the one with the photographic memory. Did we pass anything on the way up here?"

Mulder shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure there's something." He turned the ignition and the motor sputtered to life. Heat spat from the vents, sending a musky, damp scent into the air and causing the material of their clothes to stick uncomfortably to their skin. "Did Skinner say what time he wanted us back in DC?"

Scully shrugged. "In time for our ten o'clock meeting in the morning, I assume. But so help me Mulder, if you drag us off somewhere…"
"Relax Scully. Dinner, then home. I swear. Not a single step off the line."

She cast him an amused glance, and his answering smile did a better job of warming her than the heater.

"So, Scully," he began as they turned their car out of the deserted parking lot and onto what passed for a highway in those parts. "Ever heard of the wendigo?"

Scully frowned suspiciously at the light that brightened in his eyes. "Line, Mulder. Learn it, live it."

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just making conversation."

Scully allowed a tiny smile to touch her mouth as she leaned back in her seat, trying to find comfort despite the friction of her wet clothes as they rubbed against her skin.

"Alright then, no, I have not heard of a… what did you call it?"

"Wendigo."

"Wendigo. Go ahead and enlighten me."

Scully curled up against the window and let the shifting cadence of Mulder's voice lull her into peace, and somehow it didn't matter anymore how blurry the world around them had become. Maybe they shouldn't have worked, but they had. And maybe shouldn't-haves didn't matter so much when there were what-had-happeneds to contend with.

Or maybe she should stop worrying about had-happends and hadn't-happends and enjoy the comfort that came from being exactly where life had intended you to be.