~~~~~~

Baltimore Field Office
12:20 p.m.

Keys clacked softly under his fingers. His eyes were focused on the computer screen. Tooms' fingerprint obligingly stretched to fit the one Mulder had lifted from the air vent in Usher's office-- the one Colton had given him such a hard time about.

A match. One hundred percent.

Scully stared open-mouthed. "How could that be?"

He nodded toward the screen. "All I know is...they let him go."

"Mulder, they had nothing to hold him on. You know that."

"Do I?"

Scully puffed out a brief exasperated sigh. "Yes, you do. Don't tell me--"

Both hands went up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Let's just say there's some disagreement on the value of the evidence." He stood up. "I'm starving. Come on, let's grab some lunch. I think better on a full stomach." He was grinning at her.

His mercurial mood swings didn't surprise her as much as they had at first. In the past ten minutes, he'd gone from quiet fury in the interrogation room, to teasing familiarity in the hall, to brooding intensity as he laid out his evidence. And now this. Keeping up with him was an intellectual exercise that Scully was beginning to enjoy immensely. She smiled back. "You're buying."

~~~~~

Inner Harbor Bar & Grill
12:50 p.m.

Snugged right next to the water, overlooking docks filled with pleasure boats that rocked lazily on sun- sparkled water, this was Scully's favorite place to eat in Baltimore. It was unpretentious to the extreme, with dark wood paneled walls and cozy, highbacked booths that lent themselves to quiet conversation. Not incidentally, the food was excellent.

The lunch crowd was thin today, and they were able to get a window booth in the corner, away from the other patrons. Mulder ordered the deep-fried seafood sampler and fries, Scully chose the house salad and a cup of seafood bisque. When the waitress brought their iced teas and bread basket, Scully took a long sip and watched her partner. He was gazing out over the water, back in his pensive mood.

"A penny for your thoughts."

He turned back to look at her. "Think they're worth that much?"

"Mulder, you *know* that baiting Colton and the others the way you do virtually guarantees that they won't listen to your theories. Why do you do it?"

"And they *would* listen if I played nice? You really believe that?"

He had a point. No amount of ass-kissing would make someone like Tom Colton accept the possibility that his suspect was a 100 year old liver-eating mutant. "No, I guess not. But when you talk that way, Mulder, it makes them... I don't know. It's just so..."

"Humiliating? Do I *embarrass* you, Scully?" The light tone he was using couldn't hide the importance of the question. His eyes were filled with it.

Scully focused on her iced tea glass, one fingertip drawing shapes in the beads of condensation as she gathered her thoughts. "You don't embarrass me, but sometimes I feel like half of a lounge act. The straight half." She looked up to gage his reaction.

He was smiling faintly. "You don't wanna be my second banana, Scully?"

"Can't you drop the mask, even with me?"

His expression sobered immediately. "Sorry. It's a reflex."

"It's a reflex you need to overcome, Mulder. I'm your partner. You don't have to pretend with me."

He sat back against the seat, arms folded over his chest. He tilted his head and studied her face so intently that she began to feel uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Why *are* you my partner?"

"How long am I going to be on probation with you? If I've done anything to make you doubt my commitment to this assignment, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop dancing around the subject and just tell me." She was angry now, and a little hurt, but she let only the anger come through in her voice.

Mulder leaned forward so quickly that she jumped. His voice dropped to an intense whisper delivered through clenched teeth. "I don't doubt your commitment to your assignment. But keep in mind, it's short term. Forgive me if I don't make the effort to bond with someone who's just passing through."

She knew he was only reacting to her anger, but that didn't lessen the sting. She consciously softened her tone. "I'm not in this short term, Mulder, unless you want it that way." She waited for him to respond, but he just leaned back again and watched her silently. "*Do* you want it that way?"

Some internal struggle was visible in his eyes, and she chose to wait him out. Finally, he spoke in a voice that conveyed the weariness of years spent fighting the battle alone. "I don't think it's up to either of us. Blevins assigned you to prove that I'm a nutcase. All you have to do is report what I'm working on, and you'll accomplish that. It's inevitable."

So that was it. "Mulder, you may be outside the mainstream... you *are* outside the mainstream... but you are not a nutcase, and nothing I've reported even hints that you are."

He shrugged. "That's all the more reason to believe you won't be here much longer. If you're not telling Blevins what he wants to hear, he'll replace you with someone who will."

"If he tries to reassign me, he'll need a damn good reason. And I'm not going to give him one."

Mulder studied her face for a moment, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a soft smile. "You mean that." His voice was full of wonder.

She smiled back. "Yes. I do."

The waitress chose that moment to appear with their food. As she arranged the dishes in front of them, Mulder kept his gaze locked with Scully's. When the woman asked if there was anything else she could get for them, he barely acknowledged her. As she turned to leave, he pushed his plate aside without a glance.

"But you're not buying the liver-eating centenarian with ten inch fingers."

His bantering tone was back, and Scully felt an overwhelming urge to laugh with relief. "Do you blame me?" She tried for a stern look, but a soft chuckle escaped.

Mulder's smile was like sunshine breaking through a stormy sky. "An open mind is a terrible thing to waste."

"Eat your lunch, Mulder. Your brain is starving."

He retrieved his plate, picked up a plump morsel with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. He gestured toward Scully's untouched salad. "Physician, heal thyself," mumbled around a mouthful of shrimp.

Scully picked up her fork and stabbed a wedge of tomato. She lifted it in his direction in a little salute before putting it in her mouth. He smiled and returned his attention to eating with the identical enthusiasm he devoted to everything he did.

She didn't know exactly when it had happened, but winning this man's trust had become important to her. And it felt as if she had just made a step in the right direction. She looked up from her plate to find him watching her, a smile still teasing the corners of his mouth.

"A penny for your thoughts, Scully."

She let everything she was feeling show in her smile. "Nice try. Pay for lunch, and we'll see."

Baby steps, Dana. Baby steps.