Title: Another Goodbye
Author: XScout
Rating: VA
Spoilers: None
Keywords: None
Summary: Our time together will be remembered with fondness and I do not regret a day of it, but I always knew that eventually this day would come.

Disclaimer: All characters mentioned herein belong to CC and 1013. He can have them, as I am thoroughly disgusted with the show at this point. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Author's Notes: Feedback is heartily received and is a great help in getting me working on my other stories. *hint hint* XScout@hotmail.com


Another Goodbye


I wonder what he's thinking.

I've never had much luck when it comes to deciphering what is going on behind those hazel depths, but occasionally I can guess fairly correctly. Staring at the hunched shoulders, the downcast eyes, the clenched fists and the deep breathing, I'm going to guess that he's being torn between anger and sorrow. I don't know which I would prefer.

Anger is understandable. He sees my leaving as a betrayal, as though turning my back on the X-Files is the same as turning my back on him. It *is* one and the same, for the two are indelibly intertwined, but I never intended for this to be a move against him. I love him and I wouldn't leave him without serious thought first.

I've seen things in our explorations that have opened my mind to possibilities I never imagined existed. Slowly I became more accepting of them and as time passed I had even grown to believe in them. Not quite as much as he does. But with belief comes a discomfort, a fear of what is out there that mankind should never have to deal with. Eventually it becomes overwhelming and the fight to keep delving into it becomes harder and harder.

My strength finally gave out. A position opened up that I couldn't refuse - improved pay, flexible hours, more prestige, generally better all the way around. I accepted yesterday and have only just told him this morning. I couldn't bear the idea of spending the night with him if he knew. Instead, as I lay in his arms last night I savored each and every moment, knowing it would be the last time I would be allowed this intimacy with him. The second our working partnership ends, so will our personal partnership. I would be a fool if I didn't think so.

He's gripping his pencil so hard I'm surprised it doesn't snap in his fist. Yes, I think anger is better than sorrow. Anger is easier to say goodbye to, easier to dismiss an angry person and bury them in your subconscious. It also makes any future encounters easier. There is no longing, no chance of slipping and re-entering a relationship, no uncomfortable looks and silences. Of course, the chances that we will meet again any time soon are slim, as my transfer will take me overseas for several years. It's better that way, severing all ties and not looking back.

I wonder what will happen to him when I'm gone. He may just forget about me and focus on the work, chasing after ghosts and aliens with renewed fervor. Perhaps he'll quit and go back to profiling, though I hope he doesn't. I saw what the VCS did to him and I have no wish to see him dead or locked up in a padded room. Maybe he'll get a new partner, someone who will be able to deal with the frightening things I've been subjected to. Maybe it will be another woman.

My heart skips as I think of another woman taking my place and can't help the surge of jealousy that runs through me. No, I don't think he would take her to his bed, not after what I have done to him; how can he trust anyone after this? Trust is so hard for him, took me a long time to earn it and now I have to break it so that I may be free.

But it is for the best. I'm just holding him back, keeping him from really being able to immerse himself and solve these cases. I'm a distraction, someone he has to worry about when we're out in the field. I'm sure he'd insist I'm not, but I can tell. It's the way he's always glancing around to make sure I'm there and I'm okay. It's the way he has a hard time listening to me when he's in the thick of a case and is on the scent. I am just an ornament, a partner in name only. He is the one who solves the cases, not me. That is just another reason I am taking this new job - finally I can feel productive, like I'm making a contribution.

I glance at the clock; it's almost five. Just a few more minutes and I will walk out that door, not to return in God only knows how long. With that thought comes an overwhelming sense of loss. I love the man sitting across from me, I have no doubt about that, but I do doubt that it is a lasting love. He is too involved in his work to fully give himself to anyone and I know that as long as he has the X-Files, I would come second. Our time together will be remembered with fondness and I do not regret a day of it, but I always knew that eventually this day would come.

Looking up I see that he has dropped the pencil and is now staring blankly at the papers in front of him. His dark hair is flopping into his eyes, obscuring his face and I cannot tell if he is even aware of my scrutiny. I stand slowly and walk around the desk to come to a stop by his side. Laying a hand on his shoulder I feel his muscles tense under my touch.


His jaw clenches spasmodically for a moment. Without raising his head he mutters, "Just go."

I swallow the sadness welling up in my throat and step back, lingering a moment in hopes that he will say something else. I am greeted with nothing but silence. Sighing quietly I move back to my seat and pick up my briefcase, swinging it over my shoulder and twisting around on my heel with swift finality. I march towards the door and quell the urge to yank it open, instead pulling it slowly inwards - but not too slowly, I don't want to prolong this any more than needs be. As I start to step through the doorway his voice stops me.


I turn and see that he has lifted his face, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes. His Adam's apple bobs convulsively and his voice is hoarse as he tries to speak. "I..." he pauses, sucks his lower lip into his mouth and chews on it. His eyes are so deep with sorrow that I have to close my own to keep myself from drowning in their sadness. He opens his mouth again but nothing comes out. But he doesn't need to say it, because, for once, I can tell what he is thinking.

A soft smile spreads across my lips. "I know, Fox. Me too."

With that I walk out the door and head towards my new life.


Did I get ya?