X-Files minific by Raietta
* * *
They are cold, now, whenever they are together, which is as rare as they can make it. Colder together than anything Mulder has ever endured before in his life. Cold only the way they can be, together and yet not together.
He watches her type up a report on the computer, her face set and composed, serene. He watches the gleam of her red hair, the gleam of golden earrings in the ratty office lamplight, the illumination of her face from the flickering monitor. Her lovely, capable hands. Her cool face. Cold.
"Scully," he says, then stops. His voice is rusty.
"Mm," Scully says, not looking up, not entirely. It's been this way ever since he told her -- he told her -- it's been this way for a while, now.
"Never mind," Mulder says. Scully nods.
When he gets home to the apartment that night, Alex is waiting for him, cuddly on the couch, smelling of spice and leather. His eyes are so green.
"Hey," says Alex, smiling, beguiling.
"Alex," Mulder says. "I can't do this anymore."
Alex just looks at him, very still. Mulder thinks of the way Scully smells, of rain and snow and salt, the way the ocean smells in winter, and is not deterred.
The End
